


Things

by Overdressedtokill (SkyeStan)



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Future Fic, Inhumans - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-03-01 17:29:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2781662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyeStan/pseuds/Overdressedtokill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Future canon. Grant’s got powers now.  But he doesn’t want to be back on the team.  He doesn’t want anything to do with any of them.  Especially not Skye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. a mediocre past

He is sitting in the diner, drinking a cup of coffee.  Well, not drinking it.  It looks mostly full, from where Skye’s standing.  It tells her he’s been waiting.

It tells her that they only found him because he wanted to be found.  Even after two years, after all the training, he still manages to outdo her on that one.

She slides into the booth, in the seat across from him.  It reminds her of a different face and a different time.  When she was a different person.  He doesn’t immediately look at her, and that’s surprising.  It kind of settles in her stomach, actually.  A funny little feeling.

“I don’t want to fight,” he says.  Just that simply.

She nods.  “We won’t,” she says.  “I’m not here to fight.”

He shrugs at that, turns back to his coffee.  “How’s Kara?” he asks.

Skye swallows.  “She’s well.  Simmons got the mask off her, and there was still work to be done, but she looks like herself.  She says she feels like herself, too.”

A small flicker of relief crosses Grant’s face.  “I wasn’t sure about you guys,” Grant says.  “When Kara said she wanted to work for SHIELD again.  That she wanted to help.”

“You didn’t trust us,” Skye says.

“I didn’t want her to be locked in a box,” he replies, without malice.  “But I’m glad she’s okay.”

Skye suddenly feels like she’s being accused of something.  And she’s offended by it, though she has no right to be.  “We wouldn’t have hurt her,” Skye says.

“It wasn’t my decision, ultimately,” Grant says.  “It’s her life.  She wanted to join you guys, and I’m not the boss of her.”

“You were good for her,” Skye says.

“She just needed a boost,” Grant replies.  “She’s plenty capable without me.”

  
  


There’s silence.  Skye wants to tell him that Kara’s ever only spoken highly of him.  That she envies it, Kara’s ability to know that there is still good in him.  That she hadn’t been thinking clearly when she shot him.

But maybe she had been.  She regrets it, though.  And if she forgave him, couldn’t he forgive her?

She doesn’t say any of that.  None of it.  Instead, she stares at his hands, and sucks in a deep breath.  “Why did you let us find you?” she asks.

A smirk.  It feels wrong, to her.  “That’s direct,” he says.

“Would you prefer I make smalltalk?” Skye says.  A little meaner than she meant to.

What surprises her is how nonchalantly he shrugs.  “Not really,” he says.

  
  


The last time he’d sat across from her in this diner, he couldn’t take his eyes off her.  Now he barely looks at her.  It doesn’t hurt.  It doesn’t.

Skye ignores the way he’d brushed off her invitation.  “So what?” Skye says.  “Are you afraid you’re going to hurt someone?  Do you need us to help you control your powers?”

“I can control it,” he says.  He glances at his hands, flexes his fingers.  “I guess I was just curious, more than anything.  I was wondering if you knew this was going to happen to me.”

Skye tilts her head.  “What?”

“You’re the one who’s connected to all of this,” he says.  “Did you know?”

“No,” Skye says.  “None of us had any idea.”

“Did I look good?” he asks.  “On the news.”

“Well,” Skye says.  “You were picking up power lines to get people to safety.”

He chuckles to himself.  “Is that a yes?”

She feels like he’s preening.  Like he used to.  In the before.  And once after.  “Grant,” she says.  “You don’t have to put on the act.”

He doesn’t drop his little smile.  “Of course I do,” he says.

“Not with me,” she offers.

He raises his eyebrows, like he’s surprised.  “Especially with you, Skye,” he says.  “This ‘act?’  It’s all for you.”

Now he’s got a little bit of malice.  Now he’s taunting her.  And she’s not so much angry as she is upset.

  
  


She tries not to bite back.  She wants to.  But she shouldn’t.  “So,” she says.  “It wasn’t just to get my attention?”

“No,” he says.  “It was.  But not for the reason you think.”

“And what would that be?” Skye asks.

He just shakes his head.  “Listen,” he says.  “You’re one of the three Inhumans I know.  So you’re the one I wanted advice from.”

That’s not what she’d been expecting.  “You think you’re an Inhuman?”

“I know I am,” he says.  “I just wanted to know if you knew too.”

She hasn’t seen a waitress even come near their table.  And she could really use a cup of coffee, too.  “Known what?”

“That I would be chosen for this,” he says.  “In advance.”

“Ward,” she says.  “I didn’t know I’d be chosen for this before it happened.  I’m not a precog.”

“Yeah,” he says.  He picks up his coffee.  “My mistake.”

She’s not really sure where they’re going, here.  “Is that the only reason you revealed yourself?” she says.

“Yep,” he says.  And that cockiness, it seems less false.  It seems less hollow.  It kind of hurts.

“You didn’t want to see me for any other reason,” she says.

He exhales.  “Skye,” he says.  “You still go by Skye, right?” His eyes meets hers.  There’s something missing.  “I’m sorry I didn’t ask before.”

“Still Skye,” she says.

“That’s good,” he says.  He looks like he wants to say something more, but she blinks and it’s gone.  “It suits you.”

“Well,” Skye says, finally signaling for a cup of coffee.  “Thank you.”

The coffee arrives, and she pulls sugar packets from the holder.  Tries to ignore this constant, uncomfortable silence.  She resists the urge to shuffle the packets on the table.  At least it would be something to do.

She stirs.  “Is that everything you wanted?” she says.

He draws his lips into a line.  “Excuse me?”

“I saw it,” Skye says.  “You wanted to say something.”

“No,” Grant corrects. “You were trying to get me to say something very specific.”

She tilts her head.  “And what do you think that was?” she says.  She pushes. She’s always pushed him.  But he’s pushing back now, against her.  It feels wrong.

“Skye,” he says, leveling her gaze.  “The last time I saw you, you shot me.”

  
  


She had been planning to apologize for that.  She’d just never gotten the chance.  “That’s not the last time you saw me,” Skye says.  “You’ve been trailing us.  I’d be dead a few times over, if it wasn’t for you.”

“Well,” he says.  “Then let me rephrase.  The last time we spoke, you’d just shot me.”

“I had,” she says. 

“You want me to say that I forgive you,” he says.  “That I’m still in love with you.”

She’s never heard him be so direct with her.  So utterly disenchanted. “I don’t need to hear that,” she says.  She doesn’t want to hear it.  She doesn’t care.  She doesn’t care at all.  “I just want you to be honest with me.”

He lets out a laugh that’s bitter at the edges.  “Right,” he says.  “My mistake.”

“I didn’t ask you to put yourself on the news,” Skye says.  “You sent us your coordinates.  You revealed yourself.  You’re the one that wants this.”

“You’re right, Skye,” he says.  “I wanted to talk to you, because you’re the only person I can think of that might have some inkling of what I’m going through.”

“And I do,” Skye says.

“So then let’s talk about powers,” he says.  “If that’s alright with you.”

He doesn’t love her anymore.  He can look her square in the eye without a hint of his former romantic intentions.  She should say something.  She should tell him it’s alright.  That they can just talk powers, as Inhumans.  As neither friends nor lovers.

This is what she’s wanted.  Right?  “Sure,” Skye says.  “Sorry.  We um.  We got off topic.”

He gives her the beginnings of a smirk.  “Sorry,” he says, but doesn’t seem to mean it.  He’s blaming her.  He knows she’s at fault.  That’s new, for him.

Don’t bring it up.  Don’t even think about it.  “What do you want to know?”

  
  


He seems relieved.  That she’s not going to pressure him.  That she’s not comfortable with it.  “Well,” he says.  “Have you developed any secondary powers?”

She takes a second to answer.  She keeps checking his face.  Like she’s trying to catch a crack in his armor.  He used to have them.  He used to wear them for her to see.  “Yeah,” she says.  “It happened a little while ago.  I can make shields.”

“And that’s totally unrelated to your first power?” he asks.  Is this what it felt like, to be him?  All that time ago.  To know there was something wrong, to feel it, but to not be able to say anything at all?

Skye nods.  For the first time in a very long time, she’s worried she’ll slip.  Say something stupid.  And she shouldn’t be so worried.  It’s just Grant Ward.  When did she decide to care about him again, anyway?  “My primary power is seismic manipulation.”

“That’s weird,” he says.  He doesn’t seem apologetic about it.  “That you got something totally unrelated.”

She swallows her coffee, which is going lukewarm.  “What are your powers?” she asks.  “I mean, I saw you on the news but it was still unclear.  Are you invulnerable or-”

“That would be nice,” he says.  “But no. I think Simmons would call it electrokinesis.”

“And have you shown any signs of developing a secondary power?” Skye asks.

“It’s hard to tell,” he says.

“Well, when we get back to base, Simmons can run some tests,” Skye says.  “We’ll figure it out.”

  
  


He smiles at her, but it’s without any kindness.  “Skye,” he says, like this is all so amusing.  “I’m not coming back.”

She does not reel.  She does not.  “You’re not?”

“No,” he says.  “I can’t.”

“Of course you can,” Skye says.  Her voice betrays something.  Hurt, she thinks.  “You’ve proven yourself to us behind the scenes, and with your powers-”

“Okay,” he interrupts, so quickly it almost startles her.  “Let me rephrase.  I could come back. I don’t want to.  I don’t trust you.”

The ground beneath them rumbles.  Just enough to make their coffees ripple.  “Me, personally?” Skye asks.  “Or the team as a whole?”

He shrugs.  “Does it matter?”

“It matters to me,” Skye says.

“Both,” he says.  “I trust neither you, nor the team.”  Above their heads, the lights begin to flicker.  “Does that make it clear enough for you?”

She grits her teeth.  The rumbling turns to shaking, as her anxiety bleeds into rage.  “You are such a fucking hypocrite.”

“We said we wouldn’t fight,” Grant says.  “It’s too dangerous for us to get angry at each other here.”

She balls her hands into fists.  “So you would fight me, then?” she says.

“If you tried to hurt me?” Grant says.  “Yes.”

She stares at the knuckles on her right hand.  For a moment, she’s reminded of how it felt to crack them across his jaw.  How sore they’d been.  She hadn’t cared.  Not at all.

He knows what she is now.  He knows that she’s been merciless and cruel, to him, especially to him, and he’s not going to forgive her for it.  Not again.  Not ever.  He doesn’t even love her anymore.

Her cup finally slides off the table and shatters.  “Fuck,” she whispers.  “Fuck.”  She pulls back in her seat.  The rumbling stops.  The lights dim.  

Grant is watching her.  “I should go,” he says, staring at the coffee stain on the floor.  “This was a bad idea.”

“You’re really not coming back,” Skye asks.

“I’m really not,” he says, sliding out of his seat.  He sidesteps the coffee.  “Thank you for answering my questions.”

She wants to ask if he means it, if what he feels for her really is gone.  But she’s always been able to read people, him most of all.  And she gets him loud and clear.  Loving her was never good for him.  So he’d stopped.

“Grant,” she says, reaching for his sleeve.  “Just a few more minutes.  Please.”

He shakes his head, brushes off her hand.  “Goodbye, Skye.”

“If you lose control,” Skye offers, her hand lingering.  It all feels so familiar.  Like a terrible play in reverse.  “Just.  Let me know.  I’ll help you.”

“I’ll be fine,” he says.  He offers her a smile.  Just to be polite.  “But thanks.”

She tries to smile.  It feels watery and false, but she gives it to him anyway.  “Of course.”

He almost pats her on the shoulder.  She thinks he does.  It seems like he’s considering it, but maybe she’s just imagining it.  Putting the old Grant in his place.  He tucks his hands into the pockets of his jacket, and he’s gone.  No number, no confessions, nothing.

  
  


She stares at his cup as the waitress returns to mop up Skye’s mess. 

“Sorry,” Skye says.  “About the mess, I mean.” She realizes that Grant’s left her with the tab, but two cups of coffee are the least of her worries.  

(He doesn’t love her anymore.)

  
  


Skye manages just fine until she makes it back to the Playground empty-handed.  That feels like disappointment for a lot of things, which bubbles under her chest as Coulson looks around and asks, “Where’s Ward?”

There are others waiting, too.  Fitz and Simmons.  Kara.  Mack, a little further back.  All of them, ready to see him.

“He didn’t want to come back,” Skye says.  Her hands hang at her sides.

Coulson tilts his head.  Studies her expression.  “He said no?” he asks.  “To you?”

That stings.  This is all starting to really sting.  “Well,” Skye says, shrugging.  “I did shoot him.”

She looks over to Kara, who won’t meet her gaze.  

“Well,” Coulson says, like he can sense her struggling.  His hand finds her shoulder.  “That’s too bad.”

Skye just nods.  “I’d like to go take a shower, now.”

“Of course,” Coulson says.  He drops his voice.  “Do you need to talk?”

“Nope,” Skye says.  “He’s not… It’s not like I ever had feelings for him, Coulson.  I’m relieved, mostly.”

She can feel stares burning into her.  Grant had hardly stared at all.  That had been unusual, for him.  Though maybe not anymore.

Coulson rubs her arm, clears his throat.  “Dismissed,” he announces, and waits for the team to clear.  “Skye, sweetie-”

“Let’s not, okay?” Skye says.  “His love was weird and wrong and I didn’t want it.  I’m glad it’s gone.”  His love was constant and unflinching, and she thought she’d always be able to fall back on it.  Even after everything.

“Go,” he says.  There’s this quiet pity coming off Coulson in waves, and she sort of resents him for it.  He’d been no better to Grant than she was.  He’s another reason Grant didn’t come back.  Coulson smiles at her. “We can talk about his powers later.”

She doesn’t want to talk about Grant Ward.  Ever.  But it is her job.  She just sighs.  “Of course.” 

The windows shake, just slightly, as she walks by.  She’s glad he didn’t come back.  She’s just fine.

(He doesn’t love her anymore.)


	2. down to the bone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skye and Grant confront a monster and each other. Nothing is solved.

The monster isn’t all that big. It’s like, half a Godzilla, if Skye were to determine its official size. There is, of course, the question as to why half a Godzilla is tearing up the west coast, but the most important thing right now is to take it down.

So really: same shit, different day.

They send her down alone, for now. Because she’s the superhero, and this is a giant monster. It’s a cakewalk. She’s never been to an actual cakewalk, but she assumes that this is similar.

 

First, the warm-up. Make things shake. Outstretched hands and a sense of gravity and earth and her position in all of it. She makes the world buzz. She makes it move however she wants it to. Which sounds majorly complicated. But isn’t. Not for her.

“Hey!” she yells. “Mini-Godzilla!” That might end up being a trademark issue. But that’s Coulson’s problem. It turns its head to look at Skye with all five of its eyes. 

She should focus on that. Not on the person she’s only just noticed, fighting off her monster. No. She has to deal with the task at hand. She is not suddenly nervous, or anything like that.

She’s just surprised, is all. He’s not even supposed to be in the country anymore. And he’s definitely not supposed to be out here like some vigilante do-gooder. He has no damn right.

But that doesn’t matter. It can’t matter, right now. She’s busy. She squares her shoulders. “Looking for me?” she asks. Her next step rattles the ground again, setting off more car alarms than she would’ve liked.

She’s just going to ignore that.

“I’m right here,” she says. “Come and get it.”

 

Mini-Godzilla braces itself, stomps, and almost breaks into a run. It probably would’ve come straight at her, like she had planned, if there hadn’t been one minor interruption.

The traffic lights around it literally, actually explode.

Her bravado deflates a bit, which doesn’t surprise her. She’s been swallowing her dread since the moment she saw him.

Which was about a minute ago. Still.

It’s not until she hears a very familiar voice yell, “Hey! We’re not done here,” that she remembers that he hates her, and she hates him, and he’s here ruining everything,

Not that she’s been thinking about Grant Ward a lot, lately.

Not that she’s been replaying the diner scene in her head, over and over. She doesn’t think about what she should’ve said. Sometimes nice things. Things to make him stay. Sometimes the exact opposite.

But she hasn’t thought about those things at all. So it doesn’t matter.

 

Under her boots, the ground shakes more violently. She hears car windows shatter.

This is her fight. He’s not supposed to be here. 

 

She should calm down. Even though Grant stealing her monster makes her want to split the earth in half. Even then.

She can’t let him win.

He’s spotted her, now. He’s looking right at her. He isn’t smiling.

He seems as pissed as she is, actually. Which he has no right to be. He motions quickly for her to come to his side.

So they’re partners in crime now? Ugh.

Skye shakes her head. “Come here!” she yells, over the roar of the monster and the civilians and her own powers.

Grant keeps staring. He doesn’t hear her.

She gestures. “You come to me!” she yells. She’s in the better vantage spot. And fighting that thing hand to hand, like Grant’s doing, is foolish.

His hands light up. And she’s almost curious, how all that power could come from him. How differently his hands work. She wonders if it hurts him.

He rears back. A burst of white lightning comes from his hands. It must be so unfamiliar to him. The stance looks off. Like he still doesn’t know where to stand.

His shot still lands.

With the monster temporarily stunned, he runs.

 

“Skye,” he says. Flexes his fingers, and she swears she sees sparks. “What are you doing here?”

“Saving the city,” Skye says, ignoring the cliché. “What are you doing?”

“Slaying the dragon,” he replies. He smirks.

“You should go,” Skye says. “I have it covered.”

“You’re running a little late,” he notes.

“Doesn’t matter,” Skye asks. “I’m SHIELD. This is my problem.”

“I’m not leaving,” he says.

They could do this for a while, probably. Too long. And the monster is regaining awareness. Skye watches it blink its five eyes in sync. Gross.

“I need to handle this,” she says. 

He blocks her with his shoulder as she tries to brush by. She’d be mad at him, but the monster’s just picked up a streetlight.

“Knock it out,” Grant says. “And I’ll kill it.”

She almost snarls. Almost tells him that he doesn’t get to give her orders.

But there will be time to hate him later. When their lives aren’t in danger. Or at least, are in slightly less danger.

 

“Go,” she says. He doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s battle-ready. Always is. She needs to put her hands on the ground. With her fingers splayed out, she can see everything. The monster. Grant. Her powers.

A knockdown means taking away steady footing. Means manipulating the vibrations in the right spot. Under the monster.

She drops to a crouch, presses her palms to the asphalt. Loose rocks dig into her palms. She breathes. She needs to breathe. Project. 

It travels from her in a line. Not in a ripple. That would be dangerous. Careless. But she’s good. She can focus on an exact spot. She watches the monster move. Stomp. Watches Grant fire off another blast.

She ignores everything but the location of the monster’s car-sized feet. Nothing else matters. She sees it with her hands. With vibrations.

She sucks in another breath. Exhale. Exhale!

Violent shaking. Getting worse. More. More. The monster lets out something like a screech. Something else is yelling, too.

More.

It can’t stand. It has to fall. She just needs to make it stronger. Focus. Focus, Skye. The earth rocks beneath them. She wracks the ground. She owns it. Her control isn’t always perfect, but it’s more than good enough. Even if her initial attack creates tiny, tiny aftershocks. Just enough to rumble the sidewalks. It’s part of the job.

Another screech. A louder one, this time. From the monster, as it loses its balance.

She doesn’t stop. She presses forward. The ground cracks. Wait for it. Wait for it.

There is something like a screech as the monster falls onto its back. She thinks she sees surprise in all five eyes. Good.

 

She’s almost, almost pleased with herself.

Until she notices where the monster landed. 

Right on top of a building. She notes the broken glass and caved-in roof. The way the monster cries out.

Grant is screaming at her. Screaming her name, and clutching his side.

He’s furious. He’s bleeding and he’s never looked so angry.

But he’s hurt. He’s injured, and she’s at his side. She doesn’t remember running to him. But she must’ve.

“Grant,” she says. She drops to her knees and reaches for him. After everything.

It’s familiar. Grant, injured and so, so angry. And her, trying to put his arm around her shoulder. She’s doing it on instinct. He’s hurt.

He practically shoves her away. “I’m fine,” he hisses. The way he winces says otherwise.

Skye shakes her head. “You’re-”

“What the hell were you thinking?” he snaps. He tries to stand and fails, sucking in a sharp breath. “I said knock it out!”

Skye bristles. “I did!”

“I meant-” He winces. “I meant punch it, Skye.”

She blinks. “Concussive punch.”

He’s not amused. “Bingo.”

“You weren’t clear,” Skye says. “You can’t just give me orders and expect-”

“Just go kill it,” Grant demands. From his goddamn knees. “Get this over with.”

He’s giving her orders, again. He just can’t learn. “I-”

“Don’t tell me you’re not a killer, Skye,” he says. “We both know better.”

She for an instant she hopes that he bleeds out. Just so she can be done with this. She clenches her hands into fists, stands as tall as she can manage.

She’s the one that’s going to slay the dragon.

 

Her footsteps rumble less with each step. Not because she’s afraid. She’s killed with guns. From a distance. It’s the same thing.

That doesn’t make it easier. She’s just stating facts.

With her talents, she should be able to vibrate the monster’s heart so fast that it explodes. She just has to get her hands on it. One day, she might be able to do it with just a look. But that thought kind of frightens her.

She doesn’t think about Grant bleeding. Or how he got the wound. Or the fact that he blames her for it. He’s never blamed her for anything else. 

She took out a storefront because she’s an idiot. Grant is hurt because she’s an idiot. And this monster has to be killed and not contained because, of course: She’s an idiot.

People are starting to stare. At the water gushing from the knocked-over fire hydrant. The broken glass. The cracks in the earth. Her. Always at her.

She should say something. To someone. A reassurance. Maybe she should look over her shoulder and tell Grant not to die.

Her hand finds the monster’s foot before she can think of something more intelligent to say.

It cries out. It can’t kick very high, not when its stuck on its back, but it certainly wants to try. More noises. They sound…pained. In a way. Like it knows what’s going to happen. Like it never meant to hurt anyone, and it’s sorry.

Skye clenches her teeth together. Rolls her head back, for a moment. It can’t hurt anyone, here. It’s completely defenseless. And she’s going to kill it.

“Okay,” Skye mumbles. “We’ll make this quick.” She walks over rubble, steadying herself against its leg. She moves along the side, noting the strangely humanoid qualities of the monster’s body. Five toes per foot. Ankle joints, calf muscles. She pretends she doesn’t feel kind of queasy. 

She hauls herself up onto its knee. And she’s totally fine. It’s a spot where the monster can’t reach, not when it’s lying so prone and so helpless. It has shorter arms, anyway. Claws that can’t reach past the pelvis when the back is flat. A midsection that can’t bend from this position.

Whoever made this monster did a terrible job.

Is this cruel? To kill it like this. She presses her hand against the skin and feels the muscles contract. The vibrations feel out every muscle. Every beat of its strange, engorged heart.

She’s killed before. It’s not even human. She’s going to have to learn.

She has to focus solely on the heart. Solely on-

 

The heart explodes. Just like that. And Skye stares, as the monster’s chest bursts outwards with a two bursts of electric light. It goes still. Completely, totally still.

She did not do that. She can only make the heart explode inside the chest. She sure as hell can’t make a mess like that.

And she doesn’t make lightning.

Ward. What can’t he ruin? (He saved her ass. She couldn’t do it. It was here, and alive, and she couldn’t-)

“Get off the monster,” Grant calls to her. She whips her head back towards him. He’s still on his knees, clutching his right side. He’s got one hand out. Shaking from exertion.

He shot it in the foot. That’s how he did it. Through the foot, through the blood and the bone and the muscle, straight up through the heart. Light traveled faster than vibrations. She hadn’t even felt it.

 

He’s still the best shot around, clearly. She just hadn’t expected him to move.

“Quake,” Grant says, over the incoming crowd. Her codename is public knowledge. He’s trying to respect that. It still feels entirely wrong. “Get off the monster.”

She swallows the bile in her throat, from the sight of the enormous corpse and the very real sting of her own failure. She gingerly slides off the monster’s leg. She feels like she’s betrayed it, somehow. Even though Grant gave it a quicker, kinder death.

She feels like she cheated.

At a lot of things, actually. 

 

Skye used to be the girl on the other side of the camera, waiting for superheros to show up. She used to be the one uploading the videos, not starring in them. She’s not used to the crowds, even now.

She spots a couple of red lights in the sea of people that are now standing around her. Recording her. Watching her.

Don’t upload this, she wants to say. They’ll track your video. They’ll find you and pull you out of your van. Your life will be ruined. Don’t do it.

She doesn’t say that, though. And not just because there is no real SHIELD to find anything worthwhile, anymore. 

“Grant!” she calls. She cranes her neck to look for him. Is he still bleeding? Are people stepping over him as he lays there, clutching his side?

Wouldn’t be the first time. 

“Quake!” Someone yells at her. “Who’s Grant?”

Right. Everyone is listening. Everyone is going to watch Grant Ward tell her to go fuck herself for a second time, once she finds him.

She’s kidding herself if she thinks there’s going to be any other outcome. He took a hit for her. And he’s not the kind of person who wants to do that for her anymore. It makes her feel kind of vulnerable, when she thinks about it. Despite the powers and the strength and the training.

“Excuse me,” she mutters, deciding finally to shove through people. She can’t do this. More flashing lights and murmurs follow her, but the crowd doesn’t hold her back when it’s clear she wants to move.

As much as they need her, she knows they’re afraid. They see a freak, at the end of the day. A monster.

She doesn’t like to think about that a lot. But she is right now. Grant might understand, if she told him. But he’d probably just laugh at her. He seems like he’d enjoy that.

It hurts. She hurt him, and he hates her. She’s not really sure what she expected.

She wants to be angry at him. That’s all she really wants. It was so much easier when she was. When she didn’t have to look at him and see her own vitriol reflected back at her.

“Grant!” she calls again, as the crowd falls back behind her. They want photos of the monster, anyway. And Skye just wants to be left alone. “Grant, come on!”

He doesn’t yell back.

 

She still sees him, though. He’s managed to get to his feet. To walk. And he’s walking away as fast as he can manage with a wound to the side.

She feels sick with worry. “Grant, wait!”

He doesn’t. She knows he can hear her. She breaks into a sprint. He’s not moving very fast, but he’d had a pretty decent head start.

“Hey,” she offers, reaching for his arm. “Don’t go. Let Simmons look at you.”

He freezes under her hand. Doesn’t turn around. “I’m fine.”

“If you were fine, would I have caught up with you?” Skye asks. It’s a surprisingly on-point question. And it’s too familiar for this situation.

He just sighs, then flinches from the pain. Turns his head to look at her. His eyes shine down at her, bright and cold. “Simmons doesn’t like me,” he says.

“Sure she does,” Skye says. “Ward, you’re bleeding.”

“I’ll be fine,” he says. “Don’t worry about me when you have clean-up duty.” It’s not a selfless request. It’s an order to be left alone.

“Just stay here,” Skye offers. “And I’ll get you some gauze. Then you can patch yourself up and leave, or whatever.” He could wander back into the sunset and never call her again. That’s cool. That’s deserved.

He tilts his head. “Fine,” he says. “Quickly.”

She doesn’t like his tone. She hates his tone, she hates him. She hates him so much.

She runs to get him gauze.

 

She expects him to leave. She really does. That there will be a trail of blood leading to some tire tracks, and that will be that. Story over.

But he’s there. He’s moved out of the road, under a lamppost, but he’s there.

He’s taken off his jacket, too, and Skye can get a better look at the blood stain on his shirt. It’s not too bad. Not that big. Maybe he will be fine. Maybe he doesn’t need the gauze. Maybe she’s being too forthcoming, and should just leave him. He wants her to go away so badly, she can tell. She can feel his contempt clawing inside her. It stings. It stings and it burns and he doesn’t care.

“I’m not being too harsh.”

She lifts her head.

“No. I’m not- She doesn’t- You can’t tell me how to act right now!”

Grant hasn’t noticed her coming. He’s not even looking in her direction, now that she notices it. He’s looking off to the side, face scrunched in frustration.

“I’m not obligated to be nice them. You know that.”

There’s no one there.

“Well the old Grant Ward got himself shot, so maybe you should-”

“Ward,” Skye says, snapping his attention back to her. She doesn’t like this. She doesn’t like the idea that he’s seeing things. “I brought gauze.”

He eyes her warily. “No trackers?” he asks.

Wow. “Paranoid, Ward?” she replies. Thinks better of it. Changes the subject. “Who’re you talking to?”

For an instant, she catches a flash of surprise on his face. It’s the least hateful emotion she’s seen on him recently. “You heard me.”

“I think half the block heard you,” Skye says. “You were arguing with someone.”

And there goes the surprise. Replaced with a sneer, a mask of unfriendliness. Back to normal, then. “It’s not your concern.”

“Are you okay?” Skye asks. “If you’re hearing things because of your powers, thoughts or ghosts or-”

“I said it wasn’t your concern,” Grant says. He gives her a closed lipped smile that should indicate the end of the conversation.

Her skin crawls from the familiarity of it.

“Well, you’re talking to someone or something invisible in broad daylight,” Skye says. “Doesn’t that seem a little concerning to you?”

He stares up at the lamp light, takes a deep breath. “It’s fine, Skye.”

“It’s not,” she says, before she can think better of it. “What’s going on with you?”

She watches the muscle in his jaw twitch. The slight shake of his head. “Nothing.”

He won’t look at her. He won’t even deign to look at her. “Hey,” she snaps. “Look at me.”

She shouldn’t have snapped. She shouldn’t have snapped. His shoulders tense. Fists clench. Like she’s asking him to do something difficult.

He takes a heavy breath before he glances down at her.

She wishes she hadn’t said anything at all. It was better. Because he absolutely hates her. She’s never seen anything spelled out so clearly. Right there, as his eyes meet hers.

It feels kind of like having the wind knocked out of her lungs. Just kind of. “I-”

“Can I have the gauze?” he asks.

Her fingers tighten around it. If she gives it to him, he’ll leave. And he’ll never call, he’ll never ask for help, he’ll never come back.

“No,” she says. “Let me patch you up.”

He doesn’t break his stare. But he smirks. “Please don’t.”

“You’re hurt,” she says. “You can’t see your side as well as I can, and if you just let me take a look at it-”

“I’ve patched myself up plenty,” he says. 

She’s losing her nerve. “Grant,” she says, quietly. “Please.”

His expression doesn’t change. “No, Skye.”

 

She can’t not give him the gauze. She can’t tell him to screw off, just because he’s not doing what she told him to do.

Not anymore, at least.

Slowly, she extends her hand out to him. “Here,” she says. “It’s yours.”

He stares at her fingers. The chipped polish, the way her hand tremors. Just a little bit. He’s the only person that would be capable of noticing.

He reaches forward, plucks the gauze out of her palm with minimal contact. His fingers don’t touch her palm. There is no spark of feeling when their skin touches, because it doesn’t touch at all. He’s too careful for that.

He doesn’t seem any happier with her. “Thank you,” he says.

“Of course,” Skye replies. “Anything you need.” Too eager. Too willing. What’s happened to her? To them? Isn’t she supposed to hate him? Isn’t she supposed to be cruel?

He turns away. To leave her. She can’t grab his arm, even though she wants to. “You know how to reach me, right?” she asks.

She watches the way his fingers roll along the gauze. The way his muscles stretch under his tee shirt. “Yeah,” he says.

“If you want to talk,” Skye says. “Feel free. Or if you need help. I’m here.”

(My shoulder’s free.)

He doesn’t look at her again. Doesn’t turn his head. “I’ll be fine,” he says.

“But just in case,” she says.

“Sure,” he says, as unenthusiastically as possible. It’s never going to happen. He’s making that clear.

Please call, she wants to say. But she doesn’t. She has no say in this anymore.

He walks away, and she stays rooted to the ground. Even after he disappears between buildings, and all that’s left are sirens and the clean-up.

She stays exactly where he left her.


	3. evidence of human existence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grant’s just full of secrets. Skye learns the big one, but can’t share it. Grant’s got new friends, but none of them are her. And really, she’s pretty used to him hating her by now. It just doesn’t hurt any less.

Here’s what happens: some kind of weird, alien plant sprouts out of the ground in Dayton, Ohio, and consumes the nearest school building.And no one’s hurt, or anything, but they do technically have to have school in that building.And since this is a little out there in terms of government business, guess who gets stuck taking it?

At least Simmons is happy.She’s collecting samples like they’re going out of style.And it doesn’t seem to make the plants angry, or anything.No harm, no foul, right?

Skye puts her earpiece in.Coulson’s on the bus doing command.May and Kara on perimeter.And who gets to go inside?

Oh, right.It would be everyone’s favorite superhero.

Skye’s not actually sure she’s earned that title yet.But she’s trying.

“Odd,” Simmons says, drawing Skye out of her thought.“It’s not exactly a plant.Not at the center.It’s kind of like...a hive?There should be some kind of power source to it,” Simmons says.“A core.Don’t destroy it, though.Just remove it.”

“And will it try to attack me?” Skye asks, slipping her gauntlets on.

“No,” Simmons says.“Probably not.”

“There’s a 50/50 chance,” Fitz says, squinting at the plant-hive in the sunlight.It’s kind of an impressive sight.Skye will give it that.Glowing, pulsing vines covering old brick and sticking out of windows.They’re covered in strange, neon-colored flowers.The thicker vines twist upwards, curling over the building and soaking up sun.

“I hope it’s friendly,” Skye says.“It’d be a shame to ruin this.”

“Well, you know,” Fitz says. “Kids have to get back to school.”

Skye snickers.“You would be worried about that.”

“Education is important!” Simmons says.“Why, the fathers of flight-”

“The Wright brothers, Skye,” Fitz says.“They’re from here.”

“Where would they be without education?” Simmons says.

“Right, right,” Skye says.“I’ll ask the alien plant to put any toy airplanes back, okay?”

“Very funny,” Simmons says.

A pause.

“Do you think he’ll show up?” Fitz asks.Doesn’t look at Skye.

“Fitz,” Simmons says, quietly.

Skye flexes her fingers.Takes a deep breath.“Probably not,” she says.“I’m sure Ward has better things to do than come to Dayton.”

“Yeah,” Fitz says.“But this is the same thing as that monster, right?When there’s something like this, he shows up.He helps.”

Skye cracks her neck.Pretends it doesn’t hurt.“I don’t need his help.”

“Just keep your comm on, alright,” Simmons says.“Coulson worries.”

Skye hasn’t actually turned her earpiece on yet.She sets the frequency.“Coulson?” she asks.“Can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” he says.“Simmons gave you the details?”

“Yeah,” Skye says.“Kind of weird, for you.Not wanting to blow the plant up.”

“We haven’t done that in a long time, Skye,” he says.

“I don’t think that excuses it,” she says.

He doesn’t reply.

“Anyway,” Skye says, directing her attention back to Fitz and Simmons.“Where should I look for it.Roof or basement?”

Simmons checks her notes.“Well, um,” she says.“We’re not entirely sure yet.”

“Can you sweep the building on your own?” Coulson says.“I’m sure Kara or May could-”

“This seems like a ‘powers only’ sort of thing,” Skye says.“Don’t worry about it.”

“You sure?” he asks.

No.“Positive,” Skye replies.

“Okay,” he replies.He sounds unsure.Like she’s pushing it all off onto him.Like he’s trying to take her burden for her.

Always tries.Never really succeeds.

“I’m proceeding into the building,” Skye says.“Sir.”

“Go ahead, Agent Skye,” he says.“Stay safe.”

She nods.Shoots Fitz and Simmons a mock salute before taking off.“I’ll try.”

 

“Skye,” Coulson asks, voice getting staticky as she gets deeper into the building.“What’s it look like in there?”

“Um,” Skye says.“Dark.”

“Besides that.”

“Squishy,” Skye says.“Kind of damp.Like I got shrunk and put in someone’s small intestine.”

“That’s...” Coulson pauses.“Interesting.”

“Yeah,” Skye says.“And it smells like cotton candy.”

“Well,” Coulson says.“That must be nice.”

She wrinkles her name.“Not really.”There’s more she could tell him.The quiet humming of the walls.The way the floor feels under her feet.Like a half-inflated bouncy castle.The way lights pass by.Balls illuminated under veined, green skin.

It’s surreal.It’s indescribable, in a way.

Two years ago, they would’ve blown it up.They would’ve killed it.This strange, gentle plant.

It is gentle, right?It seems so peaceful.It has to be kind.

And when did she start giving feelings to _it’s?_

She catches her foot on a stray vine.Twists downward.Reaches for the nearest bit of wall.Which, naturally, is covered in plant.She grabs the nearest vine in an attempt to steady herself.

Which is how she ends up pulling it off the wall and breaking it in half.But not without hearing it scream.The vine.The twisting, screaming vine that she tore off the wall.

“Oh, God,” she says.

“What?” Coulson asks.“What’s wrong?”

It’s bleeding.It’s bleeding bright pink all over her pants.“I hurt it.”

“It can feel pain?” Coulson asks.

Skye’s hands tremble as the vine thrashes in her grasp.“Yeah,” she says.“I’m sorry,” she says, quietly.“I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

Something grabs her wrist.

Perfect.

 

She doesn’t want to hurt it.She really, really doesn’t.  

But she did.And now it’s pissed.

“Stop,” Skye says, pulling against the vine on her arm.It wraps over her gauntlet, up her bicep.“Come on.It was an accident!Stop!”

Now it’s got her other arm.Fantastic.

She tugs forward.She should use her powers, probably.But she’s not entirely sure if that will make matters better or worse.

“Skye?” Coulson asks.“What’s going on?”

“I pissed it off,” Skye says.“We’re just having a small misunderstanding.”

“Do you need help?”

She’s about to say ‘I’m fine,’ when one of the vines wraps around her neck and squeezes.So she lets out a noise that kind of sounds like a kitten coughing.

Powers.It’s definitely powers time.

The first seismic wave erupts from her arms.Buzzes through the vines grabbing onto her.Another wave.A stronger blast.She can feel them loosening on her arms.She swears she hears a small shriek of protest.  

She’s hurting them.She’s weakening them.She pulls her arms forward again.Sends a blast of power backwards.The vines snap off of her, and fall limply to the ground.

Fuck. Fuck.They were just supposed to wilt, not break.

Except that she’s kind of suffocating, so she doesn’t have too much time to feel bad.

Her fingers grab the vine around her neck. Shakes the stupid, living thing to its core.She can hear the fluid in it slosh and bubble from the energy.

She grits her teeth.It’s not letting up.“Let me go,” she manages, in a croak.The building’s beginning to shake.The vines around her feet ripple with her power.And every vine in this fucking hallway is yelling at her in protest.  

“Let me go!” she yells, as she finally tears the vine from her neck.Another shockwave.

It hates her.It hates her, it hates her.It screams, surges forward.Wraps across her chest, along her arms.Grabs her ankles.

She has seen this movie.She’s probably made a huge mistake.

Her power surges through her chest.Through her limbs.Through the vines.Every fucking vine in this stupid, disgusting hallway.

They burst in succession, from the ceiling to the floor.And she, of course, is now covered in pink goo.And has a stream of dead things in her wake.Naturally.

She runs down the hall before they can regather themselves.

Shield!She can make a shield.It cocoons around her like armor as she flees.

She just needs to get to the boiler room and get this thing out.And then they’ll contain it and it won’t want to kill her anymore.

Which may be easier said than done, since the entire building now seems to be blaring “intruder” at her.

Just her luck, really.

She turns the corner to the stairs.

And knocks right into Ward.

 

Here’s what Skye, everyone’s favorite superhero, says when she knocks into him. “Ward!”

His palm is pointed right at her heart.

“Don’t kill me,” Skye says, throwing her hands up.“The plants already tried that.”

He sucks in a breath.Doesn’t actually lower his hand.“Skye?”

“Hey,” Skye says, and wonders why every word feels like it weighs 20 pounds.“You.”

He lowers his hand. “I should have known,” he sighs.

She doesn’t bristle.She kind of feels like she should.“What do you mean?”

He just shrugs.“Who else could piss a plant off so quickly?”

“It was an accident,” she insists.

Grant says nothing.Steps off the staircase and onto the plant-covered basement floor.

Skye lifts her hand to her ear.Plans to tell Coulson she’s run into Grant.Ask for plans.An excuse or an exit.But there’s no response.

She’s got no signal down here.

“Ward,” she says, keeping after him.“Is this your new approach?Silent treatment?”

“I’m not here for you,” he says. “I’m here to help.”

“Help what?”

He looks over at her. “You guys didn’t do any research, did you?”

He’s walking faster.

“Ward,” she calls.“Don’t run from me.”

He pauses.Glances over his shoulder.“So keep up.” he says.

She throws her arms out in frustration.“Ward. What the hell is this plant thing doing?”

“Well, as of right now, I guess it’s healing,” Grant says.“Since it’s hurt.”

“Accident,” Skye says, again.

“Doesn’t fix it,” Grant shoots back.He’s mocking her tone.He’s mocking her.He shakes his head.“It’s a Vavdi,” he says.

“That’s not a word,” Skye says.

“Yes, it is,” Grant says.“Alien plant species that will occasionally get lost and sent to Earth.”

“And you know this how?” Skye asks.

“Because Gordon told me,” Grant says.“You know him.Nice guy.No eyes.”

“Oh,” Skye says, and doesn’t disguise her tone.“You’re running with the Inhumans now.”

“I’m not running with anyone.”

“I thought you gave up the team thing.”

She doesn’t miss the way he clenches his fist.“I’m not on a team.”

“Okay, so you’re in a cult.”

He stops, mid-step.Turns around.“Do you ever listen to yourself talk?” he demands.

(Don’t you get tired of hearing your own voice?)

She tilts her chin up.“Excuse me?”

“I’m a Nazi.I’m a serial killer.I’m in a cult.Is it easier for you that way?”

She’s glad her comm is dead.If Coulson could hear this, she’d probably die.She should have something prepared to say.She’s witty.She’s mean.Why can’t she say anything?

“I wanted help with my powers,” he says.“So I went to Gordon for help.”

She swallows the rock in her throat.“I offered to help you.”

She catches the beginning of a sneer.“I wanted real help.”

“Go fuck yourself, Ward,” she says, suddenly.As a reflex.No one pushes her down.No one belittles her.

He smirks.“There you are,” he says.“Thought I’d lost you.”

So that’s what he thinks of her.Good.She hopes he thinks about how much she hates him before he goes to sleep at night.“You’re not better than me,” she says.“You’re not smarter or purer or whatever.”

“Never said that,” Grant says.

“You implied it,” Skye says.

“Okay, you know what?” Grant says.“Let’s go back to not talking to each other.”

“Perfect,” Skye spits.

She follows him the rest of the way in horrible, suffocating silence.And the plants are still mad at her.

 

The plant’s core has settled firmly in the boiler room.Because of course has.

“Be very quiet,” Grant says, gently padding around it.“And very still.It doesn’t want you here.”

She wants to ask ‘it doesn’t, or you don’t?’ But there’s something about Grant’s tone that leaves no room for discussion.Also, she’s kind of terrified the thing will blow up if she disrespects its precious Grant Ward, or something.

The plant just confuses her, really.It’s alive.And it recognizes him, somehow.

It probably recognizes her, too.

The plant reminds her of a beating heart, actually. If a beating heart happened to be twice the size of her head and technicolor.

But it beats.Softly.Like she’s hearing it through an ultrasound.Strange, neon plant heart.

“There, there,” Grant says, softly.Reaches out to touch it.

Skye almost expects his hand to burn off.It doesn’t.“Kaesabeb,” he says, which is definitely not a word.“Saab’pa, kaesabeb,” he says.

“Grant,” she whispers.

He looks up at her.“It’s Vavdian,” he whispers back.

She tilts her head.“Since when do you speak plant?”

He shakes his head.Puts his finger to his lips.Resumes speaking in that strange language.

It sounds so gentle and poetic when he says it.And she shouldn’t be miffed, or anything, that he used to talk to her like that, when he didn’t hate her guts.

Or that she’d imagined him talking to her like that under the covers.Softly and sweetly.

It’s different.They’re different.

Grant’s smiling softly at the stupid alien heart.Skye resists the urge to cross her arms and huff.He’s saved the day.Again.

Not to be rude, but she’s the superhero.Just because she doesn’t speak Vavdian doesn’t make her the bad guy, here.And yes, she’d hurt it.But it had been an accident.And where does Grant even get off?Who does he think he is, making her feel like shit every single chance he gets?

She can do that to herself, thank you very much.

“Okay,” Grant says, back in human English.“We should get out of here.”He gently pats the plant heart before withdrawing his hand.“It’s going to leave.”

“Just like that?” Skye says.Now she crosses her arms.“That was easy.”

He ignores her accusation.Brushes past her on his way out of the boiler room.“The Vavdi aren’t harmful,” he says.“It just needed to know how to get home.”

“So this whole thing,” Skye says, gesturing at the walls.“Is because some living plant hive needed _directions?”_

“Yeah,” Grant says. 

“And you would know that,” Skye says.“Because you’re so good at alien stuff, now.”

“If you’d bothered to research your heritage-”

“Don’t turn this on me,” Skye says.“Sorry I don’t want to hang out with you and your best buddy Gordon.”

“Gordon and I do favors for each other,” Grant says, climbing the stairs.

“So you send the alien home,” Skye says.“And he- what?Gets you concert tickets?”

He makes a noise that almost sounds like a snicker.Almost amused.“I forget how young you are.”

Oh.That’s why.“Excuse me?”

“It’s complicated,” he says.“And it doesn’t concern you.”

“Like fuck it does,” Skye says.“I’m Inhuman too, you know.”

“And it’s not Inhuman business,” Grant says.“It’s personal.”

“Is it about Kara?” Skye asks.“Is it about me?”She can see the sunlight.They’re almost out.Almost swarmed by the team.And then he’s going to run for it.

“It’s not always about you,” he says.With a firmness that makes her ache.For what, she’s not sure.

“Then just tell me,” Skye says.“We’re practically a team, you know.We keep working together.”

Another not-laugh.“We’re not a team,” Grant says.“We can’t stand each other.”

We.We can’t stand each other.I can’t stand you.I hate you.

“Does it have to do with that invisible person you were talking to?” Skye asks.He’s out of the school, shielding his eyes from the sun.She’s close behind.

The team’s staring at him.She needs him to not leave.Not yet.

She grabs his wrist.Ignores the way he tugs back.“Come on,” she says.“Just talk to me for like, a minute.”

“Shouldn’t you tell the team-”

 

“Skye?!” Oh, good.Her comm’s back.

“Grant!” That’s Kara.Waving.Which doesn’t bother her nearly as much as the fond way Grant waves back.

“Give me five minutes with Ward,” Skye says, and pulls the comm out of her ear.

Grant stares at her.“I didn’t-”

She pulls him away from the school.Out to the courtyard, where the SUV’s set up.

He could pull away from her.Or zap her.He doesn’t.

She stands firmly on the pavement.Looks up at his face.Pretends they’re equals.“Who were you talking to?” Skye demands.“When we fought the monster.And why did you go to Gordon about it?Why not us?”

“I’m not really sure how many times I can tell you that I don’t trust the team before it sticks,” Grant says.“Do you want me to write it down?”

“But you know us,” Skye says.“You don’t know Gordon.”

“Exactly,” Grant says.“When you pull a splinter out, you don’t shove it back in later.”

She swallows.“We’re the splinter.”

Grant smirks.

“Grant,” she says.“Just tell me what it is.”Nothing.“You betrayed us, Grant.And-”

“And what?” he snaps.“I owe you?Nothing I do is ever good enough.I tried to fix it.I am trying to fix it.”He’s digging his nails into his palms.“I am killing myself trying to-”

He stops.Takes a step back.

Skye moves forward.“Trying to what?”

He swallows.He’s messed up.He’s messed up and he knows she’s noticed.“It’s not important.”

“Do you think we want you to hurt yourself?” she asks.“I didn’t- I shouldn’t have thrown that out.I don’t want you to-”

“Trip is alive, Skye.”

 

She blinks.“What?”

“I need Gordon’s help to get him back,” Grant says. “He’s teaches me how to turn into electricity and back.”

“You-”

“It’s not something I should be able to do, I think,” Grant says.“But he reached out to me.When I use my powers a lot, I can hear him.”

“Hold on-”

“And if I can turn myself into energy, I can turn both of us back into hum-”

The ground shakes.“You’re trying to bring him back?”

Grant looks down at her.“Yes.”

“Without telling us?” she asks.Is she crying?She feels like she’s started to cry.

“Kara knows.”

“How dare you?” Skye demands.“You didn’t even know him! You don’t care about him, you don’t know what it was like to lose him, you didn’t mourn-”

“Would you stop?” he says.

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Because everyone handled your change so well?” Grant snaps.“Because Trip talks to me.I’m the one that has to save him.It’s dangerous as hell, did you know that?Even with my powers.I’m really not supposed to turn into electricity and back.No one is.”

“So what?” Skye says.“You were just going to drop him on our doorstep if it worked?”More shaking.“Or is he Inhuman now?Are we not good enough for him?”

The lights on the front of the SUV flick on.“Stop.”

“What does he say?” Skye snarls. “Does he call you a traitor?Does he say he hates you?I would.”

“Enough!” Grant yells.Actually, genuinely yells.He’s raised his voice before.But never yelled.She resists the urge to recoil.“I am doing this the best way I know how,” Grant says.“The only way I can.I am doing this for him.Not for the team, and not for you.”

“We had a right to know,” Skye says.“He was our teammate.”

“What if he never made it out?” Grant says.“What if I don’t know what I’m doing?”

“We could help-”

“You’d lock me in the basement again,” he says.Stares at her like she’s hit him.“You’d lock me up, and you’d fry me until I could bring him back.And I can’t yet.I’m trying.But I won’t put myself at your mercy.”

She feels like the wind’s knocked out of her lungs.“Because we’re the splinter,” Skye says.

“And I’m just a traitor.”

“No,” Skye says.“I didn’t- That was stupid.I didn’t mean it.”

She reaches for him.He brushes off her hand.“You have always meant it.”

“No,” she repeats.“You don’t understand.You can hear Trip and you can save him and you’re mad at me and-”

“Mad at you,” Grant says.“Mad at you?” Like he can’t believe what he’s hearing.“Are you really that juvenile?”

She’s not actually sure who she hates more in that second.Because it should be him, but it also feels a lot like she hates herself.

 

She should really know better.She shouldn't say anything.“Grant,” she starts, and hates how weak her voice sounds.She’s not weak.And not for him.She glances at the ground.Rolls her shoulders.She can’t do this.

She meets his gaze. “Prove it.”

“What?”

“Tell me what he says to you.”

Grant just makes a pitying sort of face.“I don’t think I can convey him properly.”

“Try,” Skye says.And then, more softly, “Please.”

“He told me about the Jenga incident,” Grant says.“Does that help?”

Something twists in her stomach.The very definite idea that Grant is telling the truth.That Grant and Trip talk about her.“You have to let me help.”

“I don’t,” he says.

“You’re killing yourself,” Skye says.“But it’s my fault.”

There.Something like sympathy.“What?”

“I shattered his body,” Skye says.“So if you can convert me instead of yourself, I can get hurt instead of you and-”

“First of all,” Grant says.“It doesn’t work that way.And second-”

“Then make it work,” Skye says.“You can’t die, too.”

“Okay,” Grant says.“I’m pretty sure you were just telling me to go fuck myself, a second ago, so-”

“Grant!” she says.“Please.”

That’s a trick that stopped working a while ago.She doesn’t know why she’s trying it again.

“Why should I let you help?” he asks.

“Because none of us want you to get hurt.”

“I don’t believe that,” Grant says.

“I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Right now you don’t,” Grant says.“I’m sure you’ll change your mind.”

She’s not sure if she started crying or if she ever actually stopped.Likewise, she’s not sure which is more pathetic. “Grant.”

“You can’t tell anyone, yet,” Grant says.“I shouldn’t have told you.If it doesn’t work, it’s just going to hurt more.You know that, right?”

“Hoping for something and not getting it-”

“I remember,” Grant says.“Thanks.”

“But what if you can get it to work?” Skye says.

“Then,” he sighs.“I’ll contact you.”

“All of us?” Skye asks.“Or just me.”

“Kara, actually,” Grant says.“She can tell the rest of you.”

“We can all come?” Skye asks.

Grant nods.Slowly.“Not for me,” he says.“Trip would want you all there.”

“But you don’t.”

A not-smile.“Of course not.”

She shouldn’t be surprised.It’s not like they’ve made any major relationship strides.It’s not like she’s the focus, here.“Don’t get hurt.”

Grant shrugs.“Not much choice,” he says.“There never has been.”

For some reason, that makes Skye want to run her hands over her gauntlets.“Oh.”She pauses.“Do you miss us?”Skye asks.“I know Trip does, but don’t you get-”

“No,” he says.“I don’t.”

“Of course not,” Skye says.“Why would you?”

“No one misses a splinter,” Grant says.So calmly.So matter-of-fact.

“Stay safe, Grant.”

He pauses.Something flickers in his gaze.“You too, Skye.”

 

It’s the nicest thing he’s said in quite some time.She misses the lingering looks and the soft words and the smiles.She misses so much more than this.

And she has no right to.Trip is alive.But he was gone and that was her fault.

And Grant is hurt.Grant is supposed to be better and he’s not.He’s hurt.That’s her fault, too.

 

\--

Simmons wipes the pink goo off Skye’s cheek and puts it in a ziploc bag.“You don’t have the core,” Simmons says.Skye senses disappointment.

“Um, no,” Skye says, noting the way Kara’s hovering around her.“Ward said it needed to go home.”

“Well it hasn’t left yet,” Simmons says.“And you said he could talk to it?”

“Yeah,” Skye says.Watches the way Simmons glances at the school building.“Do not go talk to it.”

“I’d be quick!” Simmons says.

“You don’t speak alien plant,” Skye says.

“Ward does?” Simmons asks.

“Yeah,” Skye says.“He’s full of surprises.Did you know he’s um-” She pauses.She swallows.Don’t think in extremes.“He’s helping out the Inhumans.They’re helping him with his powers.”

“Oh,” Simmons says.Disappointment again.“We could’ve helped.”

“I don’t think that’s wise,” Kara says.

No one protests.

“Did he tell you anything else?” Kara says.

Skye meets her gaze.“No,” Skye says.“The whole thing seems pretty secretive.”

“Of course,” Kara says.Their continued eye contact is getting really uncomfortable.“That makes sense.”

“We’ll probably see him again,” Skye says.

“Do you think he’ll tell me about aliens?” Simmons says.“If I ask.”

He probably hates Simmons less than he hates Skye.He’d have to, at this point.“Maybe,” Skye says.“I could do some research too, you know.”

“You’re going to do research,” Simmons says.“Did Ward ask you to?”

“He didn’t,” Skye says.“I just think that maybe-” A sigh.“It’s nothing.”

Simmons pauses.“Are you sure?”

“It’s fine,” Skye says.And she feels like him more in that moment than she really ever has.Alone and scared and completely unable to say anything about it.

There’s a hand on her shoulder, and Skye flinches without meaning to.“Hey,” Kara says.“Don’t worry.”She drops her voice to a whisper as Simmons goes off to put away her samples.“He’ll be fine.”

“No,” Skye says, surprised she can say anything at all.“He won’t.”

Kara doesn’t reply.And for that, Skye’s glad.

 

 


	4. when all you need's a coffin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skye questions her morals, herself, and Kara. Something is wrong, and Grant’s life may very well be hanging in the balance...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am SO SORRY this took so long to update. the new season threw me like 6 curveballs and then i decided it was all garbage and to not use any canon past 2x10. the next 2 chapters are actually pretty much already written, so this will be done by the end of the summer! xx

She tries to contact Gordon.

It’s a stupid idea.She knows it’s a stupid idea, but she goes through with it anyway.She tries every channel she knows and gets nothing.

So that’s one burned bridge she’s not fixing, apparently.Which is great, because that makes the Ward-bridge ever harder to think about.

Then she realizes she’s comparing people to bridges, and also that she hasn’t seen or heard from Ward in months.

_Months._

It shouldn’t bother her.Last time, they went two and a half years without speaking.But that had been different.He had been there, eventually.A year or so into it.A stray shot here.A tagged bad guy there.And she could feel him, eventually.When he got in range.

Like a sonar, or something.She could feel him standing close by.But he’d never come into the light.

She didn’t blame him.Yes, she did.She blamed herself.She blamed Coulson.She blamed the universe, really, for this entire fucking mess.

It’s been months!Where the hell is he?  
Just last week, there’d been a small breakout of tiny blob monsters.That’s right up their alley!Right?They have an alley.They have a theme.They have to. It’s just kind of how it plays out, with the two of them.

She’d waited.She’d _waited,_ and he didn’t show.

Which was almost as bad as waiting for him like she used to.But she doesn’t want to think about that right now.

 

So if she can’t talk to Gordon, she’ll talk to someone else.And for the record, it’s not even that she can’t talk to Gordon.It’s that all of the Inhumans put a big red “BAN” stamp on her forehead some time ago, and now none of them will speak to her.

Which is fine.They can totally let Ward just toil away in his absurdly dangerous mission.That’s fine.

There’s an irony in there she’s not going to address.

And she doesn’t need them.She’s got Kara, which is better than Gordon.

Even if Kara has been super jumpy and weird lately.Which is unlike her.And definitely Grant related.Skye just has to get to the bottom of it.

She has to get to the bottom of a lot of things, really.Number one: why does she hate herself?This bleeds into number two, which is: why can’t she let Grant go?

It’s an ongoing list.

And where the hell is Kara these days?It’s like ever since Hunter and Bobbi moved back in, Kara’s moved out.

Weird.

 

And Kara has actually moved; she’s taken all her stuff and holed up in the farthest room on the base.Skye didn’t even know the base had heat in that part until Kara moved there.

If Mack set up heat for Kara specifically, or something, he’s certainly not going to tell.And Skye won’t ask.She knows better.

She knows a few things she shouldn’t.

Kara talks to Grant once a day.Skye has only hacked into their conversations like, three times.Once before he got powers, and twice after.

Even then, their conversations are brief.Simple.“What are you doing? How are you feeling? Are they being good to you?”

He asks that one every time, and it kind of bothers Skye.Kind of bothers her like, a lot.

And then there’s this feeling she gets that she’s not even listening to the real conversation.Not that they’ve made recordings, or anything like that, but like they know she’s listening.That they’re communicating some other way that she can’t crack.Not yet.

She can crack anything, though.If she wants to.And in her defense, she really hasn’t taken the time to look.Maybe that should change.

 

 

“Kara?” Skye’s been knocking on Kara’s door for way longer than could ever be considered polite.But Skye’s not polite.She’s worried.She’s snooping.She’s probably going to start hacking into Kara’s emails.“You around?”

More silence.

“Kara?”

“Yeah,” Kara replies, finally.“Yeah, hold on.”

Kara’s room is so old that she actually has a door with hinges and a knob.Instead of a sliding door, like a normal person.And also, the door creaks.

Kara peaks her head out.“What’s up?”

Skye holds up a bag of gummi worms.“I brought snacks,” she says.“Wanna chill?”

Kara blinks.“Um-”

“Killer,” Skye says, grabbing the knob and pulling the door open.She barges into Kara’s room, fully expecting to get socked for it.“I’ve been meaning to ask you how you get your hair so shiny, you know.She flops onto Kara’s bed.“So.Girltalk?”

The room is a mess.Which is very... un-Kara like.Kara makes sure all her reports are stapled at 45 degree angles.Kara can’t play Monopoly because she refuses to stop straightening the card stacks.

Kara should not have a messy room.

“I was, um,” Kara gestures to a particularly large pile of clothes.“About to start cleaning, actually.”

“Yeah but,” Skye says, opening the package of worms.“We haven’t hung out in like, forever.”

A tilt of the head.“We don’t really hang out.”

“Exactly,” Skye says.“You’re on this team.We should hang.”

“Aren’t you closer with Simmons?” Kara asks.“Or uh, Bobbi?Or Fitz?Aren’t they free?”

Skye will never tell Kara this.Never in a million years.But Kara reminds Skye of Grant.A lot.Especially right now, when her expression is somewhere between confusion and exasperation.

Correction.Kara reminds Skye of Old Grant.Fake Grant.Which may not have been that fake, if Kara picked up on all of his mannerisms.

And maybe Skye should stop thinking of it as fake to begin with.

“Skye,” Kara says, in a sigh.“What do you want?”

Skye rips into a gummi worm.“To hang out.”

“Don’t,” Kara says.“Not right now.It’s not a good week for me.”

Skye nods.“Because of Ward?” she asks.“Is he alright?”

Kara draws her lips into a line.“You want to talk about Grant.”

Skye shrugs.“Or whatever.We could talk about what’s bugging you if it’s not Grant. Ward.”

Smooth.

“I’d really rather not talk about anything,” Kara says.“I’d like to clean my room.It’s starting to stress me out.”

Skye rolls onto her back.Hangs her head off the bed.“I could help you.”

“I don’t want any help, thanks,” Kara says.

“Just tell me if he’s dead,” Skye says.“And I’ll leave.”It’s a really serious question.A really serious sentiment.And it would be a lot more poignant if she wasn’t lolling around Kara’s bed like a girl at a slumber party.

A failed slumber party, actually.

“He’s not dead,” Kara says.

“And you want me to go now,” Skye says.

“Please,” Kara replies.

Skye pulls herself up into a sitting position.Puts the bag of gummi worms on Kara’s nightstand.“I got those for you, by the way.Keep ‘em.”

Kara watches her leave and says nothing at all.

Skye’s not really sure what she’d expected.But it had probably been something better than what she’d got.

 

\--

 

“How’d you get Hunter to stop hating you?” Skye asks, sitting over a cup of hot chocolate in the kitchen.

Bobbi shoots her a curious kind of look.“What?”

“I mean like,” Skye gestures.“He’s so stubborn, right? And testy? And-”

“He never really hated me,” Bobbi says.“I mean, I know he said a lot of shit-”

“A lot,” Skye says.

Bobbi purses her lips.“But it was more of like, he was overcompensating.”

“Does he have to?” Skye says.“Just wondering.”

A more frustrated look.“Is this about Ward?”

“You would be surprised how many times I’ve gotten asked that today,” Skye says.

“Stop tangling yourself in his business,” Bobbi says.“It’s better for you not to.”

“That’s pretty much what Kara said,” Skye says.“She’s like, crazy protective of him.”

She’s careful to watch the way Bobbi’s expression changes.The soft frown.The way she looks away.“Yeah,” Bobbi says.“I guess she would be.”

Skye drums her fingers on the counter.She remembers saying something to Grant, forever ago.

(I’m not an idiot.We live on the same plane.)

“You good, Bobbi?” Skye asks.

Bobbi gives a quick nod.“Fine.”

Skye takes a sip of her hot chocolate.Almost scorches her tongue off.“Fuck,” she announces, slamming the drink back down.“Holy fuck. Bad idea.”

Bobbi laughs.(Got you.) “You should be more careful,” she says.

Skye makes a show of sticking her tongue out.“I’ll try,” she says, though it comes out like ‘Ee flth.”

It’s enough to get Bobbi to sit down at the table, still chucking.“Is Kara doing alright?” she says.“I’ve barely seen her around.”

“Not sure,” Skye says.Sucks in her lips.“She’s... stressed.”

The furrowed brow.Another tell.“About what?”

“I think something’s wrong with Ward,” Skye says.“But she won’t tell me what.”

“She still talks to him?” Bobbi asks.“I thought she cut ties when she-”

“Yeah, no,” Skye says.“I don’t think Kara likes any of us very much.”

“Are you going to tell Coulson?” Bobbi asks.

Skye shakes her head.“He doesn’t need to know,” she says.“The only people getting hurt are Ward and Kara.”

To her surprise, Bobbi looks almost relieved.“I agree,” she says.“No need to involve him in any of this.If Kara gives you any trouble, come to me.Okay?”

“We could both go see her,” Skye says.“Maybe she’d feel more comfortable if it wasn’t just me trying to talk to her.”

“I don’t-” Bobbi sighs.“Not now.I need to see her on my own, first.”

“When?” Skye asks.

“Dunno,” Bobbi says. “But don’t worry about it.”

“Were you guys friends?” Skye asks.And she asks it so neutrally that she really has to give herself a pat on the back.“Before... you know.”

“Yeah,” Bobbi says.“Friends.”

Liar.Liar.“Then you should talk to her,” Skye says.

“It’s complicated,” Bobbi says. “Like I said, she’s pretty caught up with Ward so.Who knows?”

“Do you think they’re a thing?” Skye asks.

Bobbi swallows.“Maybe.”

“Does that bother you?” she says.

A glance.“Does it bother you?”

Yes. “No,” Skye says.“I’ve barely spoken to him in two and a half years.”

“Right,” Bobbi says.

Skye gets the acute feeling they’re trapped in the exact same situation.And it’s the absolute worst.“I’m gonna take this to my room,” Skye says, lifting her mug.“Got a bit of work to do.”

Bobbi looks like she’s got half a mind to ask Skye something else.But she closes her mouth.Tries to pull her lips into a small smile.“Have fun,” she says.

“Always do,” Skye replies.

She wonders if everyone falling apart is Grant’s fault.If they could’ve all pretended to be normal if he’d stayed hidden.Probably not.Probably not ever.

 

 

The most reasonable thing to do, the only option, really, is to break into Kara’s computer.Skye doesn’t even have to steal it.She can do it remotely, like an adult.

It’s harder than she’s expecting.It’s not actually a challenge, but she had been expecting to just walk in.There’s a few safety measures.Child’s play, but it tells Skye Kara’s smart.Smart enough to know that Skye’s something of a creeper.Maybe a major creeper.Maybe Grant told her to look out.Which hurts.

Though if that had been the case, then Skye’s just proving his point.She’s got a habit of doing that.

But! If Kara’s smart enough to put up a few precautions, then she’d be smart enough not to contact Grant through her personal email.She’d have a side account.Something that Skye wouldn’t go looking for.

Well.Surprise.

She finds it.Of course she finds it.She’s Skye.

It’s a back-door email account with a fake name.And Skye assumes it’s the right one, because why else would Kara have the account to begin with?

It’s not like she has a secret account for her dirty Amazon Prime purchases.Only a crazy person would have that.Only.A crazy person.

Skye swallows.“Okay,” she says.There’s no reason for her not to talk to herself, really.The pretense of rationally is gone.“What have you two been up to?”

What is she? Kara’s mother?

Grant’s keeper?

Neither?It’s neither.

Kara uses the name “Rose Ward.”Because Grant gave her permission to.Because Grant cares about Kara enough to let her use his sister’s name.

Skye hadn’t even known her name until she’d looked it up.She couldn’t imagine getting to use it to contact him.What a privilege.What a right.

Something in her whispers ‘He must love her a whole lot.’He must.

She opens the most recent email.

He goes by “Thomas.”Something in her feels a little sick.

 

FROM: THOMAS WARD

TO: ROSE WARD

It’s completely different.You need to talk to her.She didn’t know what she was doing.Kar, come on.

 

She reads the one before that.

 

FROM: ROSE WARD

TO: THOMAS WARD

If you can hate Skye then I can hate Bobbi.

 

She’s more than a little sick, actually.This is full blown, stomach-churning nausea.

Kara hates Bobbi.Grant hates her. 

Grant thinks that Kara should forgive Bobbi.Grant hates her.And if the situations are completely different, and Bobbi didn’t know what she was doing, then.Then-

Then Grant thinks- He knows that Skye knew what she was doing.And he doesn’t forgive her.And he never will.

This isn’t what she’s looking for.This doesn’t matter.She needs to keep digging.

This is wrong.(This is _wrong.)_ But it’s barely wrong.It’s just a casual invasion of privacy.Honestly, isn’t this what Skye should be doing?Since Kara’s clearly consorting with an outside source, possibly about top-secret SHIELD business?

God.Skye really wishes she could believe her own bullshit like she used to.It was so much fucking easier, that way. 

She’d just tell Coulson that Kara was talking to Ward, and he’d handle it.He and May, with that bizarre insensitivity that marked all of their interactions with Kara.

Like Skye wouldn’t notice.Like Kara wouldn’t.Honestly, why did she even believe that Kara had honestly wanted to come back to this?Who would want all this mess when there’s Grant waiting on the other side?

She could’ve-

Skye picked SHIELD.She’d picked SHIELD and even if she wanted to change her mind, she wouldn’t.She’s not turning her back on her team and she’s- She’s a good person.She’s a good person!

 

 

She keeps scrolling through Kara’s emails.

For hours.Through backlog and cutesy emojis and all of it.Through the “thank you’s” and the “you’re so brave’s” and the “I really can’t stand it here’s.”

And, of course, the “I’m sorry about Skye’s.”Sometimes from him.Sometimes from Kara.It doesn’t matter.The message is loud and clear: Skye’s such a problem.Such a bitch.Such a burden.

It’s not even particularly nasty.It’s just the kind of passing acceptance that they hate her.Like they’re really going at her with a very dull blade.

It’s not even until her second read-through that she finds the evidence.She’d been distracted by this great, really deep-set feeling in the pit of her stomach and the back of her mind.(Never loved you!Never loved you!)She thinks she should just close out of it.Just call it a night.

But she hasn’t found what she’s looking for.She hasn’t.And she always finds what the fuck ever she’s looking for.

So she wipes her eyes and goes back in.

And that’s when she sees it.The chat she’d skipped.Not her fault!It followed the conversation where Grant had said something like, “I really don’t care what Skye thinks of me.”She’d gotten distracted.

But she finds something.Something terrible.

And she wishes she hadn’t.

But maybe that’s a lie.After all, why would she have gone looking otherwise?

She swallows.Discretely forwards the emails to her phone.

She has to talk to Kara.Right now.

 

If there’s a better way to say “I hacked your emails and I found out the Thing and I need to talk to you about it Right Now,” Skye hasn’t figured it out.There has to be something.

She knocks on Kara’s door.

An angry groan.“Bob, I swear to God-”

“It’s Skye,” she says.“Something wrong?”

“No!” Kara says.“No, it’s all-”The door opens.Way faster, this time.Which makes Skye thinks Kara may have been sitting by it.Waiting.

“It’s all good?” Skye asks, raising her eyebrows.

“It’s great,” Kara says.She clearly doesn’t mean it.“Did you want your worms back?”

Skye shakes her head.“Want to um-” She shrugs.“Wanna go out?”

Kara blinks back at her.“Like, go clubbing or-”

“Like go out to get food?” Skye says.“I’m sick of base food, you know?”  

(Email from: Thomas Ward.God, the food there was always terrible.Sorry you have to endure it, Kar.)

“I’m not really hungry,” Kara says.

“Oh,” Skye says.“I mean, I just figured you were mad at me for barging in earlier and being super weird so I want to make it up to you.I don’t want you to be pissed at me, you know?”

(Email from: Rose Ward.Skye’s kind of grating. You ever notice that?)

(Email from: Thomas Ward.Yeah, sometimes.)

Kara sighs.“I guess it’s better than sitting around and waiting,” she says.

“Waiting for what?” Skye asks.Like she doesn’t know.

“Nothing important,” Kara says.“I’ll get my stuff.Hold on.”

She closes the door.

Skye wonders if this is a new low.It really feels like it.She’s expecting to descend any minute, now.

Maybe Kara will push her into the abyss.It would be fair.

 

 

They get lunch.It’s awkward.It’s awkward as Kara orders a muffin, and when Skye asks for a coffee, and when Skye tells Kara it’s on SHIELD.The whole thing is weird.And Skye keeps getting this paranoid feeling, like Kara knows Skye just went through her emails.Which is impossible, because Skye knows every trip-wire in the book and Kara had none of them.Still.

It’s paranoia sprung from guilt.At least Skye can recognize that.

They sit together and Kara idly tugs on the wrapper of her muffin without pulling it off.

“So,” Skye starts.“Why pumpkin-pecan over blueberry?”

Kara pauses.“Long story.”

Skye blinks.“It’s a muffin, Kara.”

That actually earns her a smile.Not a full one.But it’s there.“Well, um,” Kara says.Meets Skye’s eyes, and sighs.“Grant likes pumpkin stuff.”

Which is, by the way, a floor-rumbling revelation.“Get out!” Skye says.“He eats carbs?”

“Yeah,” Kara says.“He’s a real baker.”

That’s not a flare of envy in Skye’s chest.Nope.Not her.“That’s so funny.”

“I mean, I guess I could see why,” Kara says.She lifts her arms.“He’s got these oven mitts and they’re too small for his arms and-” She gets this wistful little look on her face.“I miss our house.”

“You had a house?” Skye asks.

“Yeah,” Kara said.

Skye would laugh at the oven mitts image if she wasn’t about two seconds from swallowing her own fist.“That’s adorable.”Don’t swallow your own fist.Don’t do it.“But uh, not to be weird but-”This is already weird, so who cares?“Why do you suddenly want to talk about Grant?”

Kara nibbles her lip.And for a split second, Skye almost sees her own reflection.That’s... odd.“It’s easier than talking about other stuff,” Kara says.

“Like?” Skye says.

Kara shakes her head.“It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me,” Skye says, offering Kara her hand.“I mean, Bobbi comes back, you move all the way to the back of the base.You called me Bob when I knocked on your door, and-”

“Yeah, it’s awkward, whatever,” Kara says.“And I’m sure everyone on the team is positive it’s my fault, and that’s cool, but-”

“I’m the only one that’s noticed,” Skye says.“And I-” She inhales.“I’m usually pretty good about understanding relationships.”

Kara quirks an eyebrow. 

“I said usually,” Skye says.“I just notice stuff.Like Bobbi’s got this anxious tick with her sticks, and-”

“When she paces and twirls them, right?” Kara says.“I remember.”

There’s this strange clarity to Kara’s tone that Skye doesn’t want to push.“Yeah.And since she’s been back, she’s been doing it a lot.”

“Could be Hunter’s fault,” Kara says.

“And a lot of things are,” Skye says.“But that’s not what’s making her anxious.”

“Well,” Kara mumbles.“It’s mutual.”

“You can talk to me,” Skye offers.“My shoulder’s free.”

Kara pinches the bridge of her nose, for a moment.“It’s fine,” she says.“I talk to Grant about it.It’s cool.”

“Yeah, but Grant doesn’t really know Bobbi,” Skye says.“I do! I could help you guys get back together-”

Kara glares so fast Skye gets a chill.

“Or not.”

“I don’t-” Kara drums her finger.“She’s not-”A huff.“It’s a bad idea.”

“But do you still care about her?” Skye says.“What happened?”

“She sold me out to Hydra,” Kara says.“So she could keep her cover.”

Skye manages to keep her mouth from dropping open.But just barely.“Oh.”

“So,” Kara says. “You can see why-”

“But maybe it wasn’t on purpose,” Skye says.“I mean, did she know it was you, specifically?”

Kara sucks in a tight breath.“No.”

“So-”

“Don’t,” Kara says.“I can’t hear it right now.”

“Well,” Skye says, staring into her coffee.“If Grant can hate me, then you can hate Bobbi.”

 

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck.Also: Fuck.

Skye lets out a fake, hacking cough.

It’s not enough.

Kara crushes her muffin between trembling hands.“What did you just say?”

“I said ‘so,’” Skye says.“And then you cut me off.”

“That’s not what you said,” Kara says, voice shaking.With rage.That’s definitely with rage.“You-”

“Kara-”

“Grant said that to me,” she says, in a whisper so soft that it can only be terrifying.“In the- You-” She snarls.“You read my emails?!”

And people are staring.Good.Excellent.

“Kara, please, I’m scared for him and-”

“For him?!” Kara shrieks.“You hacked my emails to stalk Grant?!”

Skye hasn’t felt so small in a very, very long time.She swallows.“Yes?”

“You nosy little bitch,” Kara says. 

Skye swallows.“I was just-”

“He doesn’t want anything to do with you!” Kara yells.“Why can’t you get that?”

“He’s going to kill himself!” Skye says.  

“He’s-”

“I saw!” Skye says.Demands, before Kara can cut her off again.“I read your emails, yes, but I saw what he said to you.I saw the emails about the burns, and-”

Kara stands so quickly her chair falls over.“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says.

Skye stands slowly, waiting for Kara to lunge.But that’s not Kara.And it’s not Grant.It’s no one but her nerves.Slowly, Skye pulls out her phone.Her hands shake.Stupid girl.Stupid.“He said: Yeah, I’ve got some burns on my right arm.But nothing major.And then you said: How did you get the burns.And then he said-” She looks up.

Skye’s not crying.Kara is.

The table rattles beside them.“It’s just a side effect of the conversion.But I’m healing quickly.And you said: Grant, you can’t do this if it’s hurting you.You’ll die.And he said-”

“I have no choice, Kara,” Kara says.Wipes the back of her arm with her sleeve. “ I don’t get it. I can’t make him stop, I don’t even know who Antoine Triplet is or why he deserves Grant killing himself for-”

“If you knew Trip-”

“It’s Garrett,” Kara says.“It’s John fucking Garrett.I think Grant feel guilty, letting him take another protégé, letting it be Trip, letting this happen but he couldn’t have stopped it! It’s not his fault.You didn’t believe him!”

Skye takes a cautious step forward.

Kara takes a step back.“Why can’t he just be left alone?”

“I’ll talk to him,” Skye says.“I’ll tell him there’s another way, I haven’t told the team, they never have to know that he didn’t-”

“You’d never forgive him,” Kara says.“Eventually you’d hate him for it.And that’s what kills him.”

“No,” Skye protests.“That’s not me, I wouldn’t-”

“And how can he trust that?” Kara says.

“He can trust me,” Skye says.

“No,” Kara says.“We can’t.”

(They had a house.)

“Oh,” Skye says.She assumes lunch is over.

 

 

Kara doesn’t come back to base with her.And that’s unsurprising.She figures Kara will make it back in time.Or whenever.Kara’s an adult.She knows what she’s doing.

Skye is also an adult, somehow.She has no idea what she’s doing.That’s called contrast.

Probably.

She locks the door to her bunk. Flops into bed without a second thought.Her laptop’s closed and she’s never been less tempted to hack into anything in her life.Maybe Kara will email Grant about this.Skye doesn’t know.He’s dying.She can’t fix it.

She rolls onto her back, and stares at the lights on the ceiling.She does it until it hurts, and then she keeps going.

The nuns taught her how to pray, about a thousand years ago.She hasn’t forgotten.She pretends she has, but nothing gets so deeply beaten into the soul without sticking.

She closes her eyes.Presses her palms together.“Don’t let him die,” she whispers.“Please.Don’t kill him.”

She gets the quiet in response.

 

 

It’s not until the next night that the alarms go off.It’s just past 3AM, so it’s not like Skye had really been sleeping, anyway.  

She’s got a well of dread in her stomach.It’s threatening to overflow.She’s not sure what’s making her the most anxious.Kara’s anger.Ward’s hatred.Bobbi’s silence.The fact that she’d had the raw audacity to pray after all this time.

Something is wrong.Something is _wrong._

And she realizes that before she even notices which alarm’s going off.Not the front door, or the break-in alarm, but the special one.The one Fitz and Mack put in to keep teleporters out.

Teleporters mean Gordon.Which means Inhumans, which means...

She doesn’t even put pants on.She should.She’s wearing nothing but a tee shirt and her underwear, and she’s running down the hall.

The good news is, everyone else seems to be as disheveled as she is.Even May.It’s almost reassuring. 

The blip on Fitz’s tablet, less so.This whole thing is eerie.Kara joining them as they rush through the halls feels like a bad omen.She doesn’t look at Skye, or Bobbi.She just takes the tablet from Fitz without asking and frowns so deeply Skye’s afraid the lines will be permanent.

“Kara-” Skye tries. But it’s too loud.It’s too hectic.And really, Skye’s not even sure she spoke at all.

And May’s got her gun out, which feels needed.Bobbi’s got one.Coulson’s got one.And Skye-

Skye left hers in her room.By accident.Maybe not.She doesn’t know.Her legs are moving faster than her mind is.She’s not thinking.Not really.She knows Grant talked about turning into electricity and back.To her.In the emails he sent to Kara.And if he can convert like that, maybe- Maybe he figured out how to do it.Maybe he can teleport by converting himself into current and back.Maybe he’s hear to see them, and she’s just worrying about nothing, it’s nothing-

 

Simmons is the one who screams first.

Then Fitz, and Skye would scream, she would, but she’s too damned scared to make a single noise.Her whole heart’s caught in her throat.

Antoine Triplett is back from the dead.

 

Trip is back. _Trip is alive._ She’s-

She’s-

“I don’t know how,” Trip says, and Skye realizes he’s shaking.Alive, but terrified.“I think- I think since he brought me back I can move in and out of the... whatever, I think, I don’t know, but- I-”He’s staring at them, wide-eyed.

“Oh my God,” Kara whispers.“Oh my God-”

“I told him not to,” Trip says.And it’s then that Skye realizes that he’s crying, and Kara- And Kara-“Kara,” he says.How does he even know her name?Did Grant tell him?Did they talk a lot?Did they?“I told him not to.I’m sorry-”

Which is when Skye notices who Trip’s carrying in his arms.

When everyone does.

“What did you do?!” Kara shrieks.“How could you-”

She lunges forward.Bobbi’s the one who dares to catch her by the waist.“Kara,” she says.“Kar, please-”

Kara screams.Curses.Says terrible, unforgivable things.

Skye wishes she could stare at that.Pay attention.Tell Kara to stop, tell Bobbi to stop, help someone, do anything, just fucking _move-_

But she’s fixed in place.

“Oh God,” Simmons says.“Oh, God.We need to- We need to get him to the lab.Does he have a pulse?Is he alive?Trip- You-”She blinks.She’s trying.So hard.Harder than Skye is.“How did-”

“We need to help him,” Trip says.“He’s breathing.He’s-”

Burned.Bloody.Dying.

He’s covered in burns, all along the right side of his body.Across his chest.His fingers are blackened, singed, and when his hand twitches, Skye feels sick.

“The lab,” Simmons says, like she’s coming out of a dream.And Skye understands.She does.They all feel the same way.“We need to get him to the lab.”

“Now!” Kara screams, finally shoving Bobbi off.“We need to help him now!”

“Yes!” Simmons says.“Yes- We-”She draws her lips into a line.“The lab.Mack, Fitz- Someone-”

“It’s fine,” Trip says.He takes a step forward, and they all take a step back.“It’s fine, I’ll carry him.”

They’re moving.Everyone is moving.Skye knows this, because she’s watching the base pass by, but she doesn’t recall sending the command “run” to her legs.She doesn’t remember she doesn’t-

Oh, God.She stops, as the rest surge ahead.She can’t do this.She can’t-

He’s-

Why didn’t he call?

He was supposed to call! He was supposed to tell them! They were supposed to help him, and they were going to fix this. Why didn’t he call?

Because he didn’t want to see her.

Why didn’t he tell them?

Because he was afraid she’d lock him up again.That Skye would be the only face he’d ever see, ever again.And he hated her.Oh, he hated her.The thought must’ve made him sick.

Is he going to live?

She doesn’t know.She doesn’t know.He didn’t come back.He never wanted to.He didn’t do this for her.He did it for Trip.And he’d done it without her, so there could be no mistaking it.

He’s going to die because of her.Because if she wasn’t here, he’d have called.It’s this horrible feeling gnawing at her.It’s not the team.It’s not them, it’s her.It’s always been her.She’s the reason he stayed away.He’s been avoiding her.Dreading her like disease.

She’s his rot.And she’s hurt him again.She’s killing him.She’s killing him and that’s all she’ll ever do.

 

 

She does make it to the lab.She wishes she didn’t.She wishes she could just go back to bed.

But this chaos has a center, and it’s her.She can’t stay away.She can’t leave him to die.

Not like she’s going to save him.Not like she’s going to take his hand and whisper to him.Tell him she loves him.Tell him she’s sorry, she’s so sorry-

“Skye!” Simmons yells. “If you’re not going to help then get out of the lab!”

He’s dying he’s dying he’s-

Trip places his hand on her shoulder.“You should go,” he says.It’s familiar, the feel of his hands, the color of his eyes.The sound of his voice.It’s right, it makes sense, but this whole thing is just- She’s just-

Broken.Wrong.Ruined.

Her throat is too dry for her to remedy a proper sob.For that, she’s grateful. This is all too familiar in ways she doesn’t want it to be.Her scars throb.She’s going to throw up.She’s going to-

(She’s laying under glass. It’s cold.It’s so cold.Is she dying?Is Grant screaming her name?)

“Skye!” Simmons shouts.“Get out!”

And there are footsteps, yelling, she thinks she can hear Kara screaming, but it’s so far away-

Is there an earthquake going on?Oops. That’s on her.Sorry, everyone, she’s so-

“Skye?” Trip says.He’s alive.Trip’s alive and-“Skye!”

He’s drowned out by the shrill wail of a flatline.When did they hook him up?Was it just so they could listen to him die?It’s ringing in her ears as an insistence, pounding against her skull.

Her eyes roll back into her head.

Fainting is a mercy.

 

 


	5. it’s just you i need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the end, pre-epilogue. there are many discussions, and something like a resolution. skye makes a promise to herself.

SHIELD has something for burns.

Skye doesn’t think it’s going to help.

It’s going to patch his skin together.Artificial grafts.Faster. Better. He’ll be better than new, is what Simmons had said.

And Skye doesn’t know if they can trust that.

He shouldn’t be here.It doesn’t matter what they say when he wakes up. What they do now.He shouldn’t be here.

And he definitely shouldn’t be asleep.

“Not asleep,” Simmons corrects.“It’s a medically induced coma.”

“How can I trust you to bring him out of it?” Kara snaps.

Simmons blanches.“I’ll-”

“She’ll do it,” Trip says.

A pause.

 

That’s the other thing.

There’s another body here. And Skye wishes it felt like he never left, but it does.

It feels weird. And she’s not sure who’s changed more, but Trip-

She used to know exactly what he was loyal to.And now she’s not so sure.

And even worse, she’s not sure it’s any of her business. That’s the kind of thing that happens when you let someone die.You lose a lot of rights.

“I know you know her,” Kara says.“But I barely know you, and-”

“Please,” Trip says, with the sort of face that could move a mountain.“I’ll keep watch on him.You and I.And we can catch up.”He gives Kara a friendly pat on the arm.Smiles.“It’s gonna be just fine.”

Kara nods.“I don’t want anyone else in here,” she says.And Skye knows that means she should leave.“Just you, and me.And Antoine.” She looks at him.“Trip? Triplett?”

“Whatever you want,” he says.“Most use Trip but-” He shrugs.“New year. New nickname.”

“Trip works,” Kara says.

And that’s his gift, really. His God-given talent.Everyone likes him.Everyone trusts him.

Anyone would die for him.

Even Grant.

But it’s not Trip’s fault, Skye reminds herself.It’s hers.

Simmons taps her pen against her clipboard.“That’s...” She studies her notes.“That’s doable.No one but the three of us.”

“Especially not Coulson,” Kara says.“Or May.”

Simmons frowns.“They’d never-”

“I don’t care,” Kara says.“I don’t even want Skye here, but I’m not going to throw a fit about it.”

Skye tries to sink into the wall.It’s not working.

“Skye,” Simmons says.“Can you go?”

“This is the second time you’ve kicked me out,” Skye says. Like it’s funny to her. Like she’s amused.“I’m beginning to think you’re on their side, Simmons.”

That wasn’t funny.That was a stupid, stupid thing to say.

Simmons makes a face. “I-”

“Bad joke,” Skye says.“No sides, here.All good. I’m going.”

She doesn’t look at Trip.She doesn’t look at Kara.

She looks at Grant. And she aches.

“I’m going,” she repeats.And she does.

\--

 

(They have something for burns, she thinks.But they hadn’t had something for bullet holes.Not for hers.

She’d shot Grant. And he’d lived.

No GH-325 for him.

None left, anyway.)

 

\--

 

She stares at the ceiling of her room. Palms pressed flat against the bed.Hair fanned out on her pillow.

“Real fucking funny,” she says, to whoever she’d prayed to before.“This is fucking hilarious.I hope you know that.”

No one responds.And she’s glad.

\--

 

 

Coulson calls her into his office four days in.Bags under his eyes. Frown on his face.He pinches the bridge of his nose.“That Inhuman,” Coulson says, before Skye can even sit down. “Gordon. He wants Grant back.”

Her stomach twists. She feels herself flush. With what? Rage? Jealousy? “Why did you call me in?”

“I want your honest opinion,” Coulson says. Stares her down. “Kara hates me. Trip is... I don’t think he likes me much anymore, either. And Ward-” He sighs. “Should we let them take over? Let them take care of him?”

When did you start caring about Kara, Skye wants to ask.When did I? Why didn’t we before? Can we blame her, for hating us?

The look on Coulson’s face says ‘No.’ It’s a horrible, self-aware future for the two of them.Just her and Dad and no one else.

They hate it. He hates this just as much as she does.

And she’s glad. It could be easier to blame him for this. It really could be. “No,” Skye says. “Absolutely not.”

“Skye-”

“He’s not well,” Skye says. “Moving him could mess with the grafts. And they don’t even know how those SHIELD grafts work. He needs Simmons. Otherwise we’re risking infection and-” She swallows. “He could die.”

“He doesn’t want to be here,” Coulson says.

“Well,” Skye says. “Then he can leave as soon as he can walk.”

“He will,” Coulson replies. “Skye. I want you to-”

“What?” she snaps. “Slip a tracker up his ass?”

Coulson recoils. “Jesus Christ, Skye,” he says.“No!”

“Then what?”

“Feel free to talk to me,” Coulson says. “If you’re upset about this. I know you still-”

“I don’t anything,” she says. “We all saw to that years ago, remember?”

“Skye-”

“I hate this,” she says. Like a child would. “I wish he’d never come back.”

“You don’t mean that,” he says.

“You’re right,” Skye says. “I wish I’d left with Miles.”

“Skye!” Coulson says.“You’re being-”

“Immature?” Skye says. “Selfish?” She gestures. “I’m so sick of being a fucking SHIELD agent! I’m so sick of this place!”

“We’ve all made mistakes!” Coulson says. “And living with them-”

“Is what’s killing Grant!” Skye says. “He’s in there because of me! Because of us!”

“You need to cool down,” Coulson says.“Okay? Go for a walk. Go work out for a little bit.”

“It won’t fix anything,” Skye says.

“Some things can’t be fixed,” Coulson says. “And that’s just how the world works.”

“Well,” Skye says, with her heart somewhere in her throat.“Thanks for the life advice, _Dad_.”

He almost crumbles. Almost. “Skye-”

“Save it,” she says. “Just save it.”

\--

 

Four days turns into eight. Then to ten. Fourteen.

She doesn’t know why it’s taking so long.

She doesn’t know how it works, actually.

But it’s taking way too long.

And if she keeps sneaking in to see him at four in the morning, someone’s going to catch her.

She does it anyway.

She remembers dying.

It was less scary when he was around.

\--

 

Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen.

She’s there.She wants to get caught, at this point. She’d like someone to talk some sense into her.

“Can you hear me?” she asks Grant.It’s the first time she’s said anything to him.All this time without a word.

It felt so unlike them. That’s probably why it had worked.

Because-

He moves.

She’s an idiot. And she shouldn’t have said anything.“Grant?” she asks.

A noise of confusion escapes his lips.

His shoulders shift. 

And for a moment, he opens his eyes.

He’s waking up.

And Skye doesn’t cry.Her eyes are wet.There’s a lump in her throat.But it’s not crying.It’s just... heavy breathing.It’s just her, watching him.Watching him blink awake.Shift in his bed.

He’s alive.He’s gonna be okay. 

He sucks in a quick breath.Scans the room.

She watches his curiosity turn dark.Angry.He’s frowning.He’s fisting the bedsheets.

He finally looks at her.Finally. _Finally._

He swallows.

She tries to smile.“Grant-”

He tears out his IV. 

 

 

Naturally, the monitors go insane.

That has to have hurt.And he’s bleeding.He’s bleeding a lot, actually.

She shakes her head.“Grant, please-”

“What did you do to me?” he yells.“Why am I here?”

Beepbeepbeepbeep “We didn’t- Trip-”

“You can’t keep me here!” It takes the air out of her lungs.“I swear to fucking God, I won’t let you keep me prisoner again.I don’t care if I have to-”

“Stop,” Skye says.His bed shakes.The machines shake.“Stop it.”

He snarls.And she notices the sparks that encircle his hands.“Don’t think I won’t fight my way out of here.”

She blinks.She can’t cry.She can’t get angry.She just has to get him to lay down.“No,” she says.“We don’t have to fight, it’s okay-”

“If you want me to stand down-”

“I don’t, Grant, just listen-”

“Shut the hell up, Skye, you know I’m not afraid to-”

“To what?” she says.And she yells it without intending to.“Blast me into the wall?”

He levels his hand at her.“Are you in my way, or not?”

She straightens her shoulders.

She can’t intimate easy.Not even now.“You’re in a med pod,” Skye says.“You’re not-”

“And you’re what?” he says.“Standing guard?”

“No!” she says.“I was- You were-”

“What are you doing in here, Skye?”

What is she doing down here?What is she doing?“I’m not supposed-”

 

 

“Grant!”

He softens in an instant.And that, probably, is exactly what breaks Skye’s heart. “Kara.”

Skye swallows her heart hurt.“See?” she says.“See, it’s-”

He’s not listening.Kara’s already run across the room.She presses her hand to the good side of his chest.

“Grant,” she says.And she can cry.That’s okay.“Oh God, I thought you were going to die, I thought-”

Beeeeeepbeeepbeepbeep “I’m okay, I’m good.Okay? I’m-”He looks at Skye.“I thought I was in that cell.”

Kara shakes her head.“I’d never let them do that,” she says.

“I know,” he says, stroking her hair.“I know.I’m sorry.”

Skye is acutely aware of the bodies gathering in the doorway.Everyone’s here to watch.Everyone’s here to see.

She can feel it in the way Grant shifts his posture.In the way he takes Kara’s wrist.

 

 

“Thank God,” Trip says.And thank God for Trip, Skye thinks.For every reason.And this one.“I’m sorry, Grant.I’m so-”

Grant releases Kara with a sort of reluctance that makes Skye ache.“You made it.”

“Yeah,” Trip says.“I made it.”

“Then-” And Grant smiles.Actually smiles.“Then it was worth it.”

Skye chokes back a sob.She can’t do this.Not today.Not ever, preferably.

Trip moves forward.“I’m so sorry,” he continues.“You weren’t ready, it was a stupid idea and-”

“Wait-” Simmons says.“Please um.”She shifts under Grant’s gaze.“Does no one hear his heart monitor?”

Skye does.Skye hears it.

“You’re in a fantastic amount of pain,” Simmons says.“You shouldn’t even be standing.”

Grant blinks.“Oh.”

“I think,” she says.“Do you- We have morphine.And-”

“No.”

She nods.“Right.I didn’t- But your heart rate-”

“I’m fine.”

Kara looks up at him.“Are you?” she says.

He looks back at her.“Kar?”

“Don’t make yourself suffer,” Kara says.“I won’t let them do anything to you, if you take it.”

“I won’t, either,” Trip says.

And that’s what he does, Skye supposes.That’s why he’s the good one.

“It’s just until your burns heal a bit more,” Simmons says.“I can only imagine your pain level is-”

Grant swallows.Lets himself sit back in his bed.“Really high.”

“You don’t have to-”Simmons looks away.“Everyone but Trip and Kara should leave.”

Fitz reaches for her shoulder.“But-” 

“Everyone should leave but Trip and Kara,” Simmons says.“I need to speak to the patient.”

Skye catches Grant’s little nod.Oh, so Simmons is okay?Trip is okay?

“You know,” Skye says, before she can stop herself.“Simmons threatened to kill you.” She digs her nails into her palms.“And Trip- He was going to bring you back to Christian.He would’ve put a bullet in your head.”

Silence.

Trip stares at her.“Skye,” he says.“You know that was-”

“What?” she yells.“Different?”

“Stop,” Grant says.

“I hate you,” Skye says. “It’s everyone but me, right?” She snarls.“Everyone but me.”

“Skye!” Simmons says.“You need to-”

“I’m going,” Skye says, raising her hands.Everyone’s staring.Everyone’s staring at exactly what SHIELD created. “I’m done.”

No one tries to stop her.And that kind of hurts.

At least she doesn’t cry until she’s well down the hall.That’s a victory.

\--

 

Simmons doesn’t talk to her for the rest of the day.Traitor.

Though, it might just be because Skye refuses to come out of her room.

It might just be that.

 

\--

 

Skye does the smart thing.She checks with Kara to see how Grant’s feeling.She talks to Trip.She asks Simmons about the morphine situation.

Just kidding.  

That’s way too rational.She does none of the above, and sneaks back into Grant’s pod at one in the morning.

Great idea on her part.

He’s sound asleep, which is probably for the best.She wouldn’t want a repeat incident.

If he’s asleep, she can just... stay.She can watch him rest and know he’s alive.

That’s something.

She pulls a chair from the far side of the room.

(It’s good to see you.Better.)

She sits as far from him as she thinks as is appropriate.Certainly not at his bedside.Certainly not close enough that she can count his eyelashes.

From here, she can watch his chest rise and fall.That’s about it.

That’s fine.

This is... good.This is quiet, like it was before.They can’t hurt each other, like this.

 

Her phone pings.

“Shit!” she says.She was supposed to put it on silent.She was supposed to leave it in her room.

It’s from Trip.When did Trip get his phone back? Why did she still have Trip in her phone?

To: Skye

From: Triplett

Where r u?

 

She settles for turning her phone off.

“Hn?” Grant asks, from his bed.

“Shit,” she repeats, more softly this time.“I’m- You’re dreaming, and-”

“Skye?” he asks.

She swallows.“Hey.”

He rubs his eyes with the back of his hand.

She notes his sluggish movements.The glassy look in his eyes.

So.The morphine worked out, then.

She doesn’t know how to feel about that.Maybe it’s not for her to feel anything about.

(I was a lot screwed up.)

She shakes that thought out of her head. “Are you okay, Grant?”

He nods.Slowly.Pointedly.“I’m good.”

“That’s good,” she says.“I’ll just-”

“Wait,” he says.Insists.“Wait.”

“Okay,” she says, crossing her legs.“Sure thing.I’m waiting.All you, big guy.”

He gives her a soft, shy smile.“Hi.”

“Hi,” Skye says, quietly. 

He breaks into a broad grin.Broadly.Like she’s the sun.Like she’s the first person to come see him in a deep, dark basement.“You came back.You’re here.”

Her stomach twists.“I’m here.”

“Hi,” he repeats.He’s cuter than should be allowed, hair falling into his eyes.

“How’re you feeling?” she asks.Waits for his smile to fall.Waits for him to realize who he’s talking to.

“You came,” he says, and his seems even happier about it.“I missed you.”

“You got,” Skye says.Pauses.“You got really mad.”

“You did, too,” he says, sagely.“But you’re here, now.So you’re not mad at me.”

“No,” she says.“I’m not.”How could she be? She’s not mad at anyone but herself.

He won’t stop grinning.Like he used to.Like he’s proud of her. “So it’s okay,” he says.“I’m okay.”

He’s not well.He’s not himself.The drugs will wear off.He’ll remember.“I’m glad you’re okay,” she says.And she does not start crying.He wouldn’t understand.It would just upset him.“You’ve done the same for me.Remember?”

“Because I love you,” he says.She feels the pang of her heart collapsing inward. He doesn’t love her.He stopped.“I’ll always be here for you.”

She wants to scream.Not at him.Just... for the sake of it.“Thank you, Grant.”

“Do you love me?” Grant asks.Juvenile.Innocent.“I think sometimes that you do but-” He’s burning a hole right through her.“Sometimes I think you don’t.”

A few stray tears catch on her cheeks. She’s not sure how those got there.She’s not supposed to do this in front of him.

How coherent is he?How much will he remember?How much will he regret?

She wipes her cheeks.“Sorry,” she murmurs.“I’m sorry, it’s just-”

He’s not talking back.

“Ward,” she whispers.

No response.

“Grant?” she asks.

He’s fallen back asleep.Peaceful.Content.The drugs will wear off.It won’t last.It never does.

She gets out of her seat.Approaches the side of his bed.He looks so young, like this.So much happier.

She gently takes his hand.“I do,” she says.It’s okay, because he won’t hear.So he can leave, and go be happy somewhere else.“I love you.”She lets it hang there.It’s not enough.It will never be enough.“But that doesn’t change anything.You’d agree with me.I know you would.”

Nothing happens.He doesn’t squeeze her hand.He doesn’t wake.He lays still and sleeps.

She gently folds his hand over his stomach.“We have to do this,” she continues.“For ourselves.You have to stay away from SHIELD and I-”She looks away.“I have to really, truly move on.I thought I did but-” She sucks in a shaky breath.“You can see how that went.”He’ll find someone else, won’t he?She’s almost positive he already has.It won’t matter, soon enough.He’ll wake up and leave.Move on, for real this time.No more chance encounters.No more working from the shadows.It will be done.Over.  

“And when you go-” She continues, resisting the impulse to touch him.To brush his hair from his eyes.Adjust his pillow.Kiss his forehead.She reminds herself of her words. _When_ he leaves, not _if_.It’s inevitable.“I’ll be happy for you, Grant. I will be.”

In another life, in an opposite situation, he’d stay and watch over her.

In this life, he’d already be gone.If she was the hurt.If she was incoherent.He’d be miles and miles away by now.And she understands why.

She leaves him to sleep.

\--

She speaks to no one. She sleeps like the dead, until her dreams are exhausted. She somehow feels more tired than before. Great. Fantastic. Exactly what she wanted. She pretends to ignore Kara as she makes herself a cup of coffee.

Kara stares at her across the table as Skye adds another packet of sugar to her coffee.“Want to talk about it?”

“Nope,” Skye says.“Kind of surprised you do.”

“It’s really annoying when someone comes to bother you about all your secrets, right?” Kara says.“I thought you should have the experience.”

Skye glances up.“Kara-”

“I know you went to go see him again,” Kara says.

“And?” Skye says.“Are you going to tell me to stay away from your boyfriend?”

Kara doesn’t budge.“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Was he?” Skye asks.

“Sometimes,” Kara says.

“And you love each other,” Skye says.

“Yes.”

“So then why are you here?” Skye says.“If you’re not going to yell at me, and you’re not going to tell me he’s still in love with me-”

“Skye-”

“No,” Skye says.She swallows.“He’s not still in love with me.You saw what happened yesterday.”

“That’s not why I came to talk to you,” Kara says.“This isn’t about Grant.This is about you.”

Skye groans.“Please don’t.”

Kara tilts her head.“Remember when I told you please stop that one time and-”

“Do you ever just realize that you’ve made some kind of horrible, irreparable mistake?” Skye asks.“Like, no matter what you do or say, it’s never going to get fixed.And you’re never going to get what you want.”

“And what’s that?” Kara asks.“What do you want?”

Skye says nothing.

“Skye,” Kara says.“What did he say?”

“He told me he loves me,” Skye says.“But it’s just the drugs.He’s sick.He probably thought I was you, or something.”

She notes the way Kara swallows.How she positions her hands on the table.“How do you think Grant feels about you?”

“I think he hates me,” Skye says.“And I was pissed about it.And I guess I still kind of am, but it’s not like I can fix it, so-” She shrugs, and doesn’t mean it.“Might as well live with it.”

Kara drums her fingers on the table.“He doesn’t hate you.”

“Don’t,” Skye says.“I know how much you care about him but-” She should drink her coffee before it goes cold.“It’s better if he hates me, you know?Because then I don’t have to pretend to be good for him.He knows what I am.”

“There,” Kara says.“Right there.”

Skye wrinkles her nose.“Right where?”

“Stop projecting on to Grant,” Kara says.“You’re going to drive him insane.”

“I am,” Skye says.“All on my own? Good to know. Great talk.”

“Oh, shut up and listen for thirty seconds,” Kara says.

Which, rude.But.Not like there’s anywhere for Skye to go but up.

“Ever since you met up with Grant at that diner,” Kara says.“You’ve been projecting.Every little self doubt you have, every little issue.You’re making it Grant’s problem.”

“He-”

“Grant has his own issues,” Kara says.“And you have yours.And you need to try harder to keep yours out of his.”

Skye lets out a bitter sort of noise.“Okay, Doctor Drew,” she says.“Thanks for the talk.”

“Get your head out of your ass,” Kara says.“And take a minute to talk to Trip, for fuck’s sake.”

Skye sucks in a breath.“Do you hate me, Kara?”

Kara shrugs.“Sometimes.”

“Because of what I do to Grant?”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Kara says.

“I’m really sick of complications,” Skye says, massaging her temples.“And what about Bobbi? Are you going to leave her high and dry?”

“That’s-”

“None of my business,” Skye says.“Right.”

“I love her,” Kara says. And it’s a lot to admit. Especially given that she and Skye don’t actually like each other. “But you should know by now that love doesn’t fix anything.”

“Nope,” Skye says.“Just makes it worse.”

“Yep,” Kara says.

“It fucking sucks,” Skye says.

“Yep,” Kara repeats.

“I’m still in love with him,” Skye says.

“I know,” Kara says.“I’m sorry.”

At least she’s being honest.

“And Kara?” Skye says.Fuck the coffee.Fuck the conversion.

Kara cocks an eyebrow.“Yeah?”

“Get your head out of your ass and talk to Bobbi,” Skye says.

Kara frowns in return.

Skye gets it. It was rude. It was petty.

But fuck it. That’s her. That’s all she’s ever going to be.

\--

 

 

Trip is in the gym.

Which is just perfect, because she wanted to use the gym.

But Trip’s there, so she can’t. And if it’s the universe’s way of telling her to talk to Trip, then the universe can fuck right off.

Especially after what it pulled with Grant. It can fuck all the way off.

“Skye,” Trip says, just as she’s turning to leave.“Want to hold the bag?”

No. “Sure,” Skye says. “Of course.

She drops her things off to the side and takes the punching bag.“Your muscles still in tact?”

“Better than ever,” he says, taking a swing.“I feel incredible.”

“You look good,” Skye says.She reworks her footing.Nods to him.“Same as before.”

“Well, I always looked amazing,” he says. Punch. Punch. “So I’m glad that hasn’t changed.”

“But,” she says.And she shouldn’t. But if they’re meant to talk to each other, then they might as well.“How are you okay? How are you doing so well?”

“It’s-” He pauses. Rests his hand on the bag.“It’s complicated.”

“Yeah,” Skye says. “I can imagine.”

“I sort of-” He purses his lips. “When you and Raina transformed. It worked on me, too but it was... weird. You broke out of your rock shell, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Skye says.

“I think I teleported out of mine,” Trip says. “Out of fear or shock or something. And then I couldn’t figure out how to teleport back.”

“So you were never dead,” Skye says.

“I was never dead,” Trip says.

“Did you try to reach us?” Skye says.

“I don’t know,” Trip says.“I’m sorry. It’s really fuzzy.”

“All two and a half years of it?” Skye asks.  

“Until Grant got his powers, yeah,” Trip says.

“What?”

“We have similar abilities,” Trip says. “It was the first time I... felt something. In however long I’d been in there.”

“That’s-” Skye pauses. “Oddly romantic.”

Trip gives her a lopsided grin and a shove. “Jealous?”

She swallows. “Nope.”

He seems to have realized his mistake.“It’s not like that.”

“Wouldn’t care if it was,” Skye says. “That ship has sailed.”

Trip sighs.“Yeah.Okay.”

“What happened?” Skye says.Changes the subject back. “How did he change things? How did you-” Reach him, and not us? What makes Grant Ward so fucking special?

Why can’t she figure it out?

“It was like being a non-entity,” Trip says. “It was like being in a coma. And then there was- It’s hard to fully explain. It was like a pulse. Like a defib.”

“Because Grant’s powers-”

“Are super similar to mine,” Trip says, again. “Except he can shoot lightning out of his body, and I can turn into it.”

“So that’s how you do it,” Skye says. “Your teleportation. Not like how Gordon does it.”

“Different waves,” Trip says. “I think. Gordon explained it to us, but I’m pretty sure it would even mess Fitz up.”

“So you’ve been attached to Grant?” Skye says.“Following him around?”

“Like a damn ghost,” Trip says. “I think he’ll be happy to have his privacy back.”

“But you saw everything,” Skye says. “You know everything.You heard-”

“All your fights, yeah,” Trip says. He looks like he feels bad about it. That’s something.

“And you’re the one who told him to go easy on me,” Skye says. “After that monster hurt him.”

“Well,” Trip says. “We are friends.”

“Are we?” Skye says. “You’re not mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you?” he asks.

“Because I-” She motions at him. “I trapped you in a netherworld for two years!”

“No, you didn’t,” Trip says. “And it wasn’t a netherworld.” He’s laughing, at least.

That makes one of them.

“I can’t do anything right,” Skye says. “I can’t even talk to you right, anymore.”

“Have we not been talking?” Trip says.

“You know what I mean,” she says. “It’s awkward. This is weird.”

His expression changes.“I didn’t think it was weird.”

“We used to think the same,” Skye says. “Be on the same team. And now you’re leaving with Grant and Kara and-”

“Woah,” he says. “I never said that.”

“But you are!” Skye protests. “I can tell.”

He doesn’t quite frown. But he’s headed for it. “I’m going with them for a little while,” he says. “But I’ll be right back! I just need to make sure they get settled.”

“Right,” Skye says. “And I know that the sides have changed, and everyone’s changed, but-”

“You’re still in love with him,” Trip says. “We’re all aware.”

She leans her head on the punching back. “He told me he loved me.”

Trip raises an eyebrow.

“He was high on morphine,” Skye says. “Didn’t mean it.”

“He meant it. Just not a good time.”

“What are you?” Skye says. “You and Kara both? Like, his dating service?”

“No,” Trip says. “We’re his friends.”

“So what?” Skye says. “You want us to get back together?”

A chuckle. A defense mechanism. “Didn’t say that.”

“So then get off me,” Skye says. “I don’t want him to be in love with me. I was perfectly happy when I thought he hated me.”

“Um, bullshit,” Trip says. “Do you really tell yourself that in the morning?”

“Maybe,” Skye says.

“You should stop doing that.”

“You know, everyone really thinks they know what I should do,” Skye says. “But I have no idea how to do it.”

“Breaking up is hard,” Trip says. “No one said it wasn’t.”

“We were never together,” Skye says.

“And yet you can’t seem to be happy apart,” Trip says.“Weird.”

There’s a lump in her throat. It’s frustration. It’s anxiety.

It’s utter loss.

She shuts her eyes.“Can I tell you something?”

“Of course,” he says. His hand his on her shoulder. “Hit me.”

 

“I used to wait for him.” Skye says.“Before he got his powers. Back when he was still watching our backs from the shadows.After missions, when I knew he was there.I can make a sort of... radar.With my powers.And I knew when he was there, if I looked.”

She starts to nibble at her lip.Decides better of it.“I would stand there through the cleanup and the debriefing and I’d wait for him to come down off whatever rooftop he’d be lurking on.Just to... I don’t know.Come say hi?”She looks up.Offers Trip a weak smile.

Trip tries to smile back.

“And he never came down to talk.Not even once.And I guess I understood but I thought if I waited- He’d see that I was different and he’d come down.But he didn’t.”

Trip squeezes for her arm.“Skye-”

“And then I saw him on the news,” she says.“And it was... surreal.Because that’s something I was waiting for, you know? For him to come talk to me about my powers.I thought one day he’d step under a streetlight and go ‘Quake, huh?’ I thought he’d get it back and he’d stand there and we’d talk about my powers and he’d just understand because he always did, he just knew and so I-”  

She pauses.Presses her shut eyes against her palms.Waits until it hurts.

“You can keep going,” Trip says. “I promise, you’re not bothering me.”

“You’re too good!” Skye says.“You’re too good, and he’s too... him, and I’m-”

“What?” Trip says.“You’re what?”

“I’m rotten,” Skye says. “I’m killing him. I’m driving him insane!” When did she start yelling? Her mistake. “And I was so stupid!I thought it was a fucking sign, that he got powers, too!It meant he had to come back.It meant we were really, truly on the same team again.And a week later he’s contacting us, he wants me to meet him at that diner and I thought-”She trails off.Shakes her head.“I thought-”

Trip frowns.“What did you think?”

“I thought he did it for me,” Skye says.Voice gone. Confidence gone. She’s so tired. Has she always been this tired?“That I’d sit down and he’d smile at me like he used to.That he’d forgive me because I forgave him, you know?I did.I have.”

“It’s different,” Trip says.“You know that.”

Skye barely listens.Stares down at the gym mats. “I thought he’d smile at me and tell me he loved me,” Skye says.“He’d loved me this whole time.Never stopped.And we could be together, finally.”She lets out a tired little noise.“But that was-” She can hear herself swallow.“How could he have loved me this whole time? That’s so stupid. It was the stupidest thought I’ve ever had.He hates me.”It’s barely a whisper.That doesn’t make it any less true.

“He doesn’t hate you,” Trip says.

“Of course he does,” Skye says.“It’s the only option that makes sense.”

 

 

“Did Kara try to talk you out of this spiral?” Trip says. “I know she said she was going to.”

“Yeah,” Skye says.“She talked to me. But she’s got-”

“Bobbi.”

“And so it’s not like she can really talk.”

“Or,” Trip says. “Maybe you’re just reluctant to listen to anyone’s advice.”

“You know what happened the last time I took advice?” Skye says. “When I listened to Coulson? You died.”

“I didn’t-”

“We all thought you did!” Skye yells.“And I wasn’t even allowed to mourn! Not you, not Grant, not my fucking self! And I kept listening! And it got worse! Everything got so much worse and now-” She shakes her head. Tries to find the words. “I am ass-deep in bullshit. I have never been so sad in my fucking life. And I’ve been really, really sad.”

“Skye,” Trip says. “Come here.”

He hugs her.And he’s as warm as she remembers. Just as firm. Just as friendly.

And there’s this part of her that knows it’s no one’s fault but her own. And there’s another part that knows Coulson’s gotten better. That he’s trying. That he’s sorry.

She’s sorry. He’s sorry. It doesn’t matter.

None of it does.

She squeezes Trip as tightly as she can, and refuses to let go.

\--

 

She tries to see Grant once more. Like maybe she’ll be able to talk to him, this time, and he’ll retain the information. And then he’ll wake up not hating her anymore.It’ll be perfect.

Except that Kara’s in the pod, and Bobbi’s standing outside the pod. Biting on her fingernails. Waiting.

And Skye doesn’t want to wait with Bobbi. Because that would mean she’s accepted that they’re in the same situation.

“I was just leaving,” she says.

She goes to her room, and doesn’t come out.

\--

 

One day. Two days. She’s pretty sure everyone’s given up on her, which is good. She’s given up on herself. It feels great.

She sneaks out of her room for a late night snack. Well. An early morning snack. It is four am, after all.

He’s looking in the fridge.

He is Grant Ward. He is alive and walking. And he is leaning into the fridge.

Leave. She should leave.

But she has to stay.She has to. Who knows when she’ll get another chance?

“Grant,” she says, softly.“You’re up.”

He lifts his head out of the fridge. “Skye.”

“Hey,” she says. “I guess we’re on the same snack schedule again.”

He closes the fridge.“I guess so.”

It’s funny. She’s not hungry anymore.

“How are you feeling?” she asks.

He rolls his shoulders.“Fine.”

“Just fine?” she says.

“Fine’s about as good as I get,” he says.

That’s- He’s-

This is all her fault.“I’m sorry.”

“It’s-” He glances at her face for a moment.Looks away.“You didn’t do this to me.”

“Yes I did.”

“No,” he says. “I chose to do it before I was ready. I-”

“Because you wanted us off your backs,” Skye says. “Because you wanted me off your back.”

It’s unwise to approach him.

But her she is. Way in his personal space. And they’re not even friends anymore. 

“That’s not why I did it,” he says. “We’ve been through a lot but this was on me. Not on you.”

“Grant,” she says. First names. “It’s okay. I know you...” Have been lying to yourself about how you feel. “Aren’t a fan of me anymore.”

“I thought we felt the same way about each other,” he says.“Don’t we?”

Is this it? Is this their talk? They’re not even on neutral ground. And she’s not ready. She hasn’t prepared.

“A lot’s changed,” she says. “I’ve changed.”

He has the nerve to give her a once over. “You look the same to me.”

She returns the favor. Looks him up and down.

“Your scars are gone,” she says.

“What?” he asks.

She points.It’s rude to point. It’s rude to exist.“You got burned and the grafts- It’s-”

“It’s covered, yeah,” he says. “I won’t have to see it anymore.”

“I’m-” She stops.“We-”

“I should go back to my pod,” he says. “Not that I have anything to pack, but-”

“You’re leaving?” Skye says.

“At dawn, yeah,” he says.

“Just like that?”

He won’t look at her.“Just like that.”

 

 

There’s a song for this, probably. A thousand of them. What better to write about than heartbreak?

Skye hates songs. She’s decided. “You can’t.”

“I’m going,” he says. “I don’t want to be here.”

“Around me,” Skye says. “You don’t want to be around me.”

“Please stop,” he says. “I told you, this isn’t-”

“Just say it,” she says. “Just look me in the eye and tell me what you’ve been thinking.”

He looks her in the eye.And says nothing.

“Tell me you hate me,” she says. She hears the crack in her own voice. “Tell me it’s all been to avoid me.”

“Why are you so hell-bent on me hating you?” he says. “Hate is so-”

“Extreme?” she asks.“Excessive?”

“Cruel,” he says.

“And I deserve cruelty,” she says. “Don’t I?”

“No,” he says. “You don’t.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Skye says. Balls her hands into fists.“You told me you would never lie to me.”

“So?” he says. “You never listened to a damn thing I said down there.”

“I did listen,” she says. “I remember all of it.”

“So do I,” he says. “And so maybe that’s why I want to go. Maybe it-” He runs his hand through his hair.“Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?” she asks.

“Why are you so hell-bent on fighting me?”

“Because I want it to be a clean break,” Skye says. She did it! She said it out loud! All cheer. All boo. “I want you to leave and I want to be able not to miss you anymore.”

“You-” He looks right at her. Right through her. “You miss me.”

“It hurts to breathe,” she says. “It hurts to speak. I- I-”

“Skye,” he says.

“You get it,” she says. “This is what it felt like to be you, right? To love someone and know they hate your very existence? To know they’re out there, falling in love with a beautiful girl, forgetting your face and your name and-”

“Stop,” he says. “Skye, stop.”

“You left,” she says. “You left and I told myself I was over it.You know that? It took me two years to convince myself I was over you.”

“You just said you hated me,” Grant says. “In the context of that speech.”

“You can hate someone and love someone at the same time,” she says.

He swallows.“I know.”

 

 

So. That’s it."It was two years," she says.And there it is. The first tear. She’d hoped she was out.She’s so sick of crying."I had to get over it. I couldn’t spend two years knowing you were out there, knowing the last thing I'd said to you was-" Swallow."Was-"

"Never turn your back on the enemy," Grant says.

She’s shaking.Or is that the room?"I know what it was," she says. "I don't even-" It’s the room.She’s quaking the room.She sucks in a breath. Focus. Focus. "I don't even remember if I wanted you dead because I just know how glad I am that you aren't, how glad I've always been and-" 

She looks up to him for a sign.  

Nothing. Nothing. _Nothing_.

"Two years," she says, voice shaking. "And you never even called."

"I had nothing to say," he says. "This isn't some convoluted romance, Skye, we're spies and-"

"You could've planned revenge," she says. It comes out as a croak."You could've done something.I waited for you! You knew! You stood up there and watched me wait! And you knew I would've done anything to talk to you, to just talk, Grant-"

"I didn't know that," Grant says. "How the hell was I supposed to get that from you standing around? I thought you were waiting for me to come out so you could arrest me.You caring about me is news to me, Skye."

It hits. It draws blood.

"You weren't supposed to wait," he says."We can’t be fixed."

It cracks ribs.Punctures lungs. 

"I'm not safe around you. You have to understand that."

Stops the heart.

She can't breathe."Why not?" Skye says."If you- If I'm safe around you then-"

"You're not safe around me!" he says."Don’t you get it? We’re poison to each other."

She stammers."I-"

"We only ever knew each other as liars," he said."Me as the killer and you as the one that got retribution."

"That's not true," Skye says."You know-"

"You only love me because you think I hate you," he says."But you'll get over it, Skye. Okay? You'll move on."

She swallows."Like you did."

He says nothing.

"Do you hate me?" Skye asks.

He won't look away. "Yes."

She’s already wounded.She might as well."Do you love me?"

He doesn't even blink. "Yes."

"So you aren't over it," she says."You haven't moved on."

"I did though," he says. "I had no other choice."

(I love you. _I love you._ )

"I love you," she says.And that makes her cry harder, which is just plain pathetic. "I love you and you can't go."

"You don't love me," he says. "No one ever does."

 

 

She has nothing left to say.Nothing she can say."I do love you," she says."I- I can't stop being in love with you."

“That’s-” he sighs.“That’s a problem, Skye.”

“We can make it work,” she says.Begs.“Just let me try, Grant, just give me a chance-”

“You know we can’t,” he says.“We were never meant to work.Not ever.”

“If we just-”

“No,” he says.“There is no trying.There is no second chance.Third chance. Whatever this is- We can’t.”

She has to say something.Anything.“I want to try,” she says.“But you don’t.”

He finally breaks eye contact.“It’s more complicated than that.”

She stares straight at her shoes.

It’s the horrible truth.He’s right.

There is no “we.” There is no “making it work.”

There’s nothing there at all.She’s not sure there ever was.Maybe they’d just both imagined it at the same time.

She sucks in a breath.“We can’t run into each other anymore,” she says.“It has to be over.”

“I know,” he says.

“We’ll probably-” She can’t.She can’t do this.

“Never see each other again,” he says.“I know.”His voice cracks.

She looks up just in time to see him wipe his eyes.“Grant-”

“No,” he says.“We can’t.”

“We could,” she whispers.“Please.We could-”

“Run away together?” he says.Shakes his head.He can’t seem to stop himself from crying.And part of her is glad it’s mutual.“No.Never going to happen.”

“I wasn’t going to say that,” she says.“I don’t know what I meant to say.”

He stares down at her.“It wasn’t meant to be.”

(But I do believe some things are meant to be.)

She sniffles.“I know.”

 

 

For just one, still moment, he reaches out his hand.Cups her cheek.His thumb catches her stray tears.“I’m sorry.”

She nuzzles into his touch.“I’m sorry, too.”

They don’t mean for this.They mean for everything.At least, she does.

She wants him to kiss her.Just once.Just for goodbye.

But he drops his hand.“We’re leaving first thing,” he says.

She nods.

“I don’t want anyone coming to say goodbye,” he says.“I just want to leave.”

“I understand.”

“Please don’t get hurt out there, Skye,” he says.“You- You should-” He shoves his hands into his pockets.“Live a long, happy life.Fall in love with someone else.Just-” Look at me, she wants to say.Please. _Please._ But he won’t.He never will. “Be happy.Okay?”

She wraps her arms around herself. In absence of his hold.“You too.”

“I’ll try,” he says.

She wants him to stay.She wants to make him stay.To make him understand she’s changed.They’ve changed.They could try again, as different people. Couldn’t they?

She swallows the lump in her throat.“Goodnight, Grant.”It’s five in the morning.

He almost smiles at her.But not quite.“Goodnight, Skye.”

She can’t quite bring herself to say goodbye.  

But then again, neither can he.

\--

 

She lays to bed.She doesn’t even try to sleep.

It hurts. It pulls her insides apart.She’s torn between wanting to vomit and wanting to sleep, probably forever.She can barely breathe.She seems to be all out of tears.

But she’s alive.And he’s alive.  

And today-

Today-

Right now. There is no other choice.There is no other option.

Today she moves on.

It’s the last thing they’ll ever do together. 

 

 

She closes her eyes.

“Keep him safe,” she whispers. “Please.I’ll give you whatever you want.”

She has nothing left to give.

 

END BEFORE EPILOGUE.

 

 


	6. epilogue: we didn't need these things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the short conclusion. don’t expect a resolution. expect a realization. and almost half a compromise.

It’s funny.

She spends her time feeling like someone’s died.

Maybe it’s all that left-over mourning from years ago.  All that sadness she had to swallow.

And no one’s even died. Everyone’s alive. Trip’s back! Grant’s okay! Kara’s fine and Skye’s almost positive she and Bobbi are speaking again. So who knows what’s going to happen there, really.

She hasn’t seen so much possibility in ages.

And it’s fucking terrifying.

She can’t upend her life. She can’t turn her back on SHIELD. And she sure as hell can’t text Grant a “What’s up?” out of the blue.

She can’t text anyone. She doesn’t really want to talk to anyone, right now. Maybe not for a while.

She hadn’t thought of mourning as a solitary experience. She’d never really tried it before, not even when she was little. Not even for imaginary parents.

She’d had no precedent. But here she is.

It’s like fourteen funerals at once.

Maybe fifteen.

Maybe just three.

Life goes on.  It’s fine. No one’s really dead.

\--

 

She decides to stop counting the days.

\--

 

She wonders how he did it. How he could just swallow his love whole, bury it deep enough that it was nearly snuffed out.

She knows she used to know the secret. She’d done it. Before he’d even figured it out.

But then he’d remembered. Or he’d learned. And she’d forgotten.

She wants to remember. She does.

He’d said.  He’d said, in rage.  He remembers all their conversations.  That can’t be a tick in her favor.

She’d said. She’d agreed to never see him again.

But.

But.

Isn’t she the fingers crossed kind of person, anyway? Aren’t rules meant to be broken, and promises only made between friends?

They’re not friends.  They haven’t been friends in _years._ They’re practically strangers.

Complete and utter outsiders. They knew nothing about each other.

She’d made that promise under the pretense that they were friends.

So it’s null. It’s void. It doesn’t even count. 

 

Thinking like that is probably why he hates her.

 

But...

Didn’t he love her, too?

\--

She stands under the streetlamp without meaning to.

It’s nothing.  It’s not a signal.  Not a test.

Just a curiosity.

She shouldn’t have looked for him to begin with.  She’s moved on, you know.  She’s free-er and lighter than she’s ever been.

So this is just... nothing.  It’s just a late night.  A quiet night.

He’s nearby.  And if he’s not here in fifteen minutes. Fifteen. Then she’ll get the picture and call it even.  And she’ll never try again.

Not once.  She means it.  She’d meant it before.  She’d waited months.  So this is no big deal.

She drums her fingers on the lamppost for a moment.  Stops.

She can’t see the stars from under here.

She steps out of the light.  A few paces away, in between lamps.  Where it’s decently dark.  Not very.  Just enough that she can see a few, bright stars in the night sky.

It’s got to be fourteen minutes, now.  There’s got to be fourteen minutes left, right?

It’s a clear night.  She could wait longer.

No.  No, she couldn’t.

She sits down on the curb.  Stretches her legs out into the street.

She could check if he’s gotten closer.  Maybe she should do that, figure out if she should leave or not.

She should leave.  This is ridiculous.  She’d promised.  They’d promised.  And she needed to keep her word.

Never meant not ever.  Meant not doing this anymore.  Meant no more waiting and no more expecting him to show.

She curls inward.  “Come out,” she whispers.  Shuts her eyes.  “Please.  Come out.  Come out.”

Twelve minutes? Eleven?  She should get up.  She should go.

Her palms press into the sidewalk.

She stands up.  Takes a step back.  Another.

 

He’s standing right behind her.

What a goddamn cliché. What a waste of a perfectly good trope, really.

Who would waste something like that on the two of them?

Who would ever consider this a good idea?

 

 

She turns on her heel, and he catches he shoulders.  Grant.  Not a passerby.  Not a coincidence.  Just Grant Ward.  Total stranger.

(Talking like that wouldn’t fix anything. Nothing will be fixed. Why is she even trying? Why is she even here?)

“Leaving?” he asks.  He’s quick to drop his hands.

She swallows.  She must look like an idiot.  Staring up at him, with the lamplights in her eyes.  She must look moonstruck.  And foolish.  And... what was that word he’d used?  Juvenile.

That’s what she must look like.

He stares at her for a moment longer before giving a shrug.  Walks a step past her, and settles on the curb.

She stands there for another beat. “Can I sit?”

No response.  It’s not a no.  She chooses to take the spot next to him, where she’d been moments prior.

She keeps her legs folded close to her, and her hands wrapped around her knees.  That way, he won’t think she’s trying to hold his hand.  Brush shoulders.  Anything like that.

This is what moving on looks like.

 

 

Besides.  He’s not even looking at her.  He’s looking at the sky.

“It’s a nice night,” he says.

The streetlights have gone out. (Him.) But when she looks back up, the night is clear.

The dark makes it easier to see the stars.  She feels a breeze, but doesn’t shudder.  “Yeah,” she replies. “It is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the end from here is up to you. or maybe to the stars. thanks for sticking with this series!  
> love,  
> rachel


End file.
